Mass Effect: A Fanfiction
by mstock.tennis
Summary: My first published Fanfiction Origins to Post-Reaper War (W/DLC). Timeline/Source is the ME Wikia. I'm a longtime ME Fan, but I don't like how BioWare told/ended their story, so I'm adding/taking away some things and retelling the story. I'm writing this for myself, but thought maybe other people would enjoy it. If you like slower, long-term reads this might be for you. Enjoy!
1. Prologue and Entry 1

[Prologue: Timeline]

War is progress, Peace is stagnation. -Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

2148 CE: Man uncovers a Prothean Database deep within the crust of Mars' Southern Pole, Promethei Planum. FTL Travel is developed from this cache of information and deep exploration of the Sol System begins.

2149 CE: Charon, Pluto's moon, is identified as a Mass Effect Relay encased in thick layers of ice. John Grissom leads the first team on an expedition through the relay to the Arcturus System, 36-LY away. The Mass Relay is discovered to be a Galaxy-wide network. The Systems Alliance charter is signed by the 18 largest nations on Earth and becomes the Military and Exploration spearhead of Humanity.

2151 CE: The Arcturus Station is built as the Systems Alliance begins massive Military Expansion. An accident at Singapore International Spaceport exposes hundreds of humans to dust-form Element Zero. Roughly 30% of the children born in Singapore after suffer from cancerous growths.

2152 CE: The Delta Pavonis Foundation begins settlement of humanity's first extra-solar colony world, the planet Demeter. Later that year, additional colonies are founded on Eden Prime and Terra Nova.

2157 CE: The First Contact War

2158 CE: Biotic Potential is Discovered, on April 11 Margaret Shepherd is Born

[Entry 1: Childhood Pt. 1]

My earliest memories were of fields. Sprawling, endless fields of tall grass, corn, barley, wheat, and soy. It all grew well in the rich soils of Mindoir, as well as the planet's own domestic vegetables. I had a small family, just two parents and an older brother. He was the shadow that blocked out the sun, looming over to grip me under the arms and toss me into the air. I remember his hands -like my father's- rough and caked with the rich soil, strong and warm from his hours of hard labor in the fields. I remember my mother's smile, just a flicker now, with all the warmth of Mindoir's unending Summer. I remember how quickly it all disappeared.

My mother and I manned a small produce stall at the Spaceport nearest the farm. She sold whatever small surplus we had as I sat and braided fat blades of grass and wildflowers into thick crowns. My brother and father were consulting the captain of a trade ship, bartering for the worth of our goods. I remember hearing a high-pitched whistling from above before a beam of light shot down and blasted the docked trade ship into the sky, crates and debris flying everywhere. My mother snatched me from the stall before it flew apart. I was suddenly an infant again as she carried me away from the wreckage, clinging to her tightly as she bolted from the destruction. The sky darkened with ships, unfamiliar and sinister, as a thousand more beams of light shot down at us, and set it all on fire. My mind couldn't process what was happening fast enough, the explosions, the wreckage, the people, the screaming.

"Mason!" My mother shrieked, "Jonathan!"

"Mom!" My brother hollered, his voice coming from across the port. My father was slung across his broad back, slumped over. We met in the middle amidst the chaos and ran towards home together. "Falling I-beam," he panted as we ran, "it caught him in the chest, knocked him back. He's still breathing."

"Where are the guards?" she cried, "Where is the Alliance?"

"Look out!" We hit the ground. My lungs collapsed under my mother's weight as she grunted heavily. Something hot was eating away at my arm, singeing, burning. I screamed, tears pouring down my face. She yanked my jacket off, tearing the heat away, but the pain dug deep. Picking me up, she swung me around a corner, crouching behind a large stack of steel shipping crates.

"You're okay, you're okay," She cooed, wiping my hair away from my face. My throat burned with smoke as I whimpered, clutching the charred flesh of my arm. "Stay here," she panted, looking over her shoulder, "Mom will be right back."

I could only watched her go, fear and confusion paralysing me against the hard, metal crates. Shouting filled the air before a burst of loud, short pops rang out. The screams I couldn't focus on while running became the only thing I could hear. Bullets slugged each and every surface, pinging off the shielded guard station and puncturing everything else. I cowered behind the safety of the crates, eyes wide open, the melted flesh of my arm bleeding through my fingers as I gripped it tightly against my chest, not even registering the pain anymore. Dust and ash fell from the sky, and all I could do was breathe it in, sit, and wait while the shots rang out. I remember when the screaming finally ceased and the stench of death had crawled into my blood to settle.

Minutes, hours, days, I don't know how much time passed before footsteps started coming my way. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed to the God my parents so dearly cherished.

"Maggie," someone whispered, "it's me." Johnny. I looked up and saw him, fresh tears streaking down my face in relief. My older brother was caked in sweat, blood, and grime, his shirt soaked fully through. Tears fell down his own cheeks, carving a clean path through the dirt. My breathing came in short gasps as I launched myself into his arms. I felt them tighten around me, something hard and metal knocking against my back before he pulled ever so slightly away. "Are you ready to play a game, Monkey?" he asked, using my childhood nickname to try and sound lighter. I didn't like the steel edge in his voice.

"Where are Mom and Daddy?" I asked, my voice coming out in a strained whimper.

Something flickered across his face, something that crushed my heart and deflated my lungs. He didn't answer, a grim line setting his jaw as he met my gaze. Silence communicated the rest.

"We have to go, Mags," he said, looking all around us anxiously. "I want you to hold on tight like a good Monkey, and whatever you do, don't look. Okay?" I nodded. "I need you to promise."

"I promise."

I was the only lie I'd ever told.

Twined together, my parents laid on the ground of the spaceport, almost as if they were asleep in bed. The blood pooling around their unmoving bodies told me what Jonathan didn't... couldn't. I held on tight with both arms around his neck and both legs locked tight around his torso, letting my body's pain drive out the image of the two of them. I couldn't bring myself to look away from the carnage. Pale, deadened faces, broken, twisted bodies like puppets cut from their strings. I breathed in whatever acrid dust was drifting to the ground, and choked on it. Jonathan's breathing was fast and laboured, but he didn't stop. We had almost made it to the carport before a shot hit the ground near his feet.

Jonathan screeched to a stop and whipped around. Three men who weren't men raised their guns. two pairs of dead, black eyes peered from each of their tall, slick faces. Long, scaly jowls hung from their jaws and disappeared into suits of hard, steely armor. Three pairs of nostrils on three faces flared and twitched, breathing in blood and fear. My brother crouched slowly, peeling me off his back with a strength he'd rarely shown me.

"When I say run," he murmured without turning his head, "Find the guard station by the carport and stay there until I come and get you, okay?"

"Don't move, human!" One of the aliens spoke- Galactic Neutral- his voice deep and thick like the toad-brown skin covering his body.

"Run," Jonathan whispered, giving me a push. With the other hand he raised the metal thing I'd felt against my back, and fired. I ran, as fast as my twelve-year-old legs could carry me, down through the spaceport's entrance, past the gate and around the corner to the guard house. I heard a burst of shots, an explosion, then silence.

"Are you clear over there?" I heard from nearby, another dark voice.

I had climbed through the broken window of the battered, abandoned post, cutting my hands and legs in the process. I was hiding under one of two desks, clutching a gun and a shiny, disk-like object in my hands. The gun was heavy, and uncomfortably warm. Thick steam was coming out from the sides, curling into the ceiling of the desk and dissipating. My breathing was ragged, the dust from outside coating my lungs, invading my blood. I was tired, but my body was a tight live-wire, ready to lash out at a second's notice.

"Uh-huh, yeah we'll check. How many did you round up? Alright. Yeah we have about forty-five. It'll be enough." Something clicked and the voice grunted. Heavy footsteps rushed the building. They were going to kill me. The security door went flying into the back wall as two pairs of footsteps burst into the room.

"Found you."

I was staring into the face of Death, and as It reached down to grab me, the world went white.

"Clear! All dead in here Sir!"

"Private, try plowing ahead again and see if I don't kill you myself."

"...Yessir, but Sir I think you should come look at this."

"Local watch must've put up a fight."

"I don't think so Sir, the guard that was in here might've been able to kill these two inside, but not the eight outside Sir. Not by himself, and not the way these aliens were done in. His gun is missing and they're completely- is that a child?"

My head was pounding. A thousand black spots danced across my vision as I slowly came to. My head lolled out to the side, catching a glimpse of hard blue.

"Hey, hey are you alright?" A warm hand rested on my shoulder. My body charged up like an electrified fence. I felt the energy whip out, throwing the hand and its owner back against the opposite wall of the post.

"Woah there, easy now," a gruffer, deeper voice soothed. "Private are you alright? Don't touch unknowns without confirmation of safety. It looks like we got one of them biotics."

"Whe...re..is..Mom...Johnny?" I managed. I opened my eyes wider, my hands unconsciously dropping the gun and the metal disc.

"Easy now," the voice eased, careful. The gun and disc disappeared. "Private, take the grenade, the gun's warped beyond use." My vision cleared. A big, white-haired man was in front of me, crouched in an open stance, one hand steadying him on the floor, the other gripping the table above me. "What's your name, kiddo?"

"Shepard," I choked out. "Maggie Shepard."


	2. Entry 2

[Entry 2: Childhood Pt. 2]

"Minor head trauma, multiple contusions, one cracked rib, thick lacerations along her back, legs, and hands, severe bruising and blood loss, and the third degree burn on her arm is... deep, to say the least. She gripped the cauterized flesh so tightly it made the wound worse and that's not even what I'm worried about."

"What's that?"

"She's been inconsolable for days now. Every time she wakes up she starts crying again until she falls asleep, completely exhausted. She won't eat or even drink. We've had to resort to nutrient paste through a feeding tube."

"That's to be completely expected. She watched her entire colony and family get massacred by Batarian Slavers. What about the biotics? Can you detect it in any way?"

"The technology to do that is still in its adolescence, but she hasn't exhibited any signs of telekinesis other than the Private's story and your speculations."

"It's more than speculation, she shot him across the room without moving a muscle and those Batarian Slavers were killed without guns."

"All the more reason to heal her up as best we can and take her to Arcturus."

"Arcturus? What is Alliance brass going to do with her?"

"I don't know what the protocol is for this, I'm just a doctor. The Alliance will know what to do with her. Take it to the higher-ups if you feel that strongly about it."

They sent me in an FTL shuttle away from my summery, warm home-planet and into the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space. My arm was bandaged tightly, a stream of medi-gel feeding into the burn, stitching up the damage I'd caused it. The rest of my injuries were healed, save for the occasional sharp tug letting me know my rib was still tender.

Captain Maddox was the old, grizzly man who'd found me with Private Steele. He'd watched over me for several days, making sure I was "taken care of" before I was assigned an escort to a new place. The Arcturus Station. A gigantic metal box floating in the middle of space was going to be my new home. A home where they would find "people like me" so I could learn how to control my "special gifts". I still didn't know what they meant.

The last thing I remember was the alien man's hand grazing my shoulder before a white-hot energy bloomed from inside me, and blasted outward. I remember that same energy lashing out like a whip when the Private had touched me in the same spot. It had gone as soon as it had come, leaving me empty and tired.

Jonathan, Mom, Dad. I cried over and over without stopping in the hospital. They stuck thin, rubber tubes down my throat when I refused to eat. All I could see were their bodies, tangled together in a pile of broken bones, soaking in a lake of their own blood. I felt helpless, alone, and scared, like a weak little field mouse hiding in her den. I was alive, sure, but I was the only one left behind. The only one that white light had saved.

I slept fitfully on the shuttle ride to Arcturus, tossing and turning in my sleep as the fresh, brutal memories attacked me. I awoke with a start, clawing at my new tunic because I could swear my heart was going to jump out of my chest. Nobody noticed. My escort was a group of two beefy men and a young woman maybe a little older than my brother, named Commander Patterson. She was up in the cockpit talking to the pilot while the other two were hunched in their seats, heads down, resting. She turned to look back, just as I put my head back against the shuttle window, pretending to sleep.

"Poor thing," she murmured. "Alliance brass will have to figure out what to do with her. Most likely she'll end up at the academy, but maybe they'll give her a choice like the others."

"With what you heard from Maddox? No way, they'll point her straight to training."

When we arrived at Arcturus, Commander Patterson took me through a maze of hallways, up glass-walled elevators, through restricted doorways. We ended up in front of a big metal door, waiting for someone named "the Admiral" to dictate my fate. The door beeped and whirred open, a man dressed in blue beckoning us forward.

"So, you are the biotic they found on Mindoir," he said, addressing me directly. He was tall, stocky and strong. His shoulders were easily twice the size of my father's, his hands equally big. Commander Patterson nudged me. I nodded without speaking. The Admiral's eyes were a hawkish blue, their gaze kind, yet uncomfortable. His face was worn from years of struggle, the kind the older farmer's got from working so long in the field except his had a big scar running forehead to chin on one side of his face. He crouched down to my level, a considerable distance, and looked me straight in the face. "My name is Admiral Steven Hackett, what is yours?"

"Shepard, sir. Margaret Shepard," Commander Patterson answered for me when I didn't.

"Margaret," the Admiral smiled, "May I call you Maggie?" My nickname name sounded so strange in this man's mouth, I couldn't bear to hear it from anyone other than my family.

"No please," where the first words I said. My voice was small, but firm. I did not want to cower in front of this man.

"Alright, Margaret it is then," he said, his smile fading to the corners of his mouth, those hawkish eyes boring into mine. He stood, returning to the seat behind his massive desk. He pulled up a computer and started typing. "Your file says you are already twelve years old, Margaret, and yet you have not gone to any type of Alliance school or facility to train your biotics?"

"I don't know what 'biotics' is," I said, adding "Sir" at the last second.

"Sir," Commander Patterson interjected, "Captain Maddox says that the EEZO dust on Mindoir was especially thick when they landed. Doctor Karin Chakwas was the resident doctor aboard our search and rescue and took care of her. She thinks that Margaret may have been exposed to EEZO earlier in her life, but her abilities didn't manifest until she suffered the trauma she did, both physical and mental. The fact that she ingested a great quantity of EEZO during the raid could also be a potential trigger."

"I see," the Admiral said, typing quickly into his computer, "thank you, Commander." He turned back to me. This time, I met his piercing gaze without wavering. I felt this strange urge to prove myself to him, prove that his looming presence was not intimidating to me, prove that I was not the weak little field-mouse that let her family die.

"Well Margaret, I think there is only one thing for you. Since you have some sort of biotic ability, you will need to train it, hone it. What you do after you have gone through training is up to you. The Alliance is in the process of creating a good, safe, and nurturing environment for people with your capabilities, and you would be treated very well there. The other option we have is an orphanage on Earth."

"What happens if I want to stay?" I asked.

"You get stronger, you learn to control yourself, and if you go farther, maybe even how to help others."

"Will I hurt anybody else?" I thought of the Private and the broken arm he'd walked away with the first day at the hospital.

"Only if you want to." There was an infinity of heartbeats in between the three of us. Admiral Hackett's gaze did not drift from my face even as I looked down in thought. I could train, become strong, and find the people who killed my family on Mindoir; pay them back for what they did. I could do it with the help of these "biotics". It seemed like the only option in the world, I just needed to accept the hand that was held out to me.

I met Hackett's gaze, newfound purpose blazing through my body.

"I'll do it."


	3. Entry 3

[Entry 3: Adolescence]

"Again."

"Come on Shepard, you're just going to lose."

"Again."

Derek charged at me with his biotic field, arm bracing for impact. I raised my own flickering shield, ignoring the blood dripping down my chin and the swelling in my left cheek. We rammed together. The fields smacked against each other, spitting out small sparks that streaked to the floor as our energies butted heads. Derek pushed hard, his tall, lanky frame dwarfing my smaller, weaker field, but it held. He feinted, shuffling backwards on the mat before charging again. This time my shield buckled. I watched the splinters shoot across my field, latticing the surface with a spider-web of cracks.

"Shit."

It shattered completely. I fell back against the mats, heaving air into my lungs, feeling the energy dissipate into the floor. That was not the result I'd wanted.

"I told you," Derek mocked from across the mat.

"Shut the fuck up," I spat. My fists hit the mat as I sprang up. I gathered my strength again and tried to pull the energy together into another field.

"You know, your biotics wouldn't be so weak if you had a better implant. Especially since it fucked up your arm. I mean, seriously isn't that some indication you need a change?"

If only you knew, I thought, my eyes traveling to my left arm. The scars from four years ago peeked through the cuff of my sparring tunic; dark memories washing over me. Focus.

"Shepard, Tygeson, stop sparring already and go shower before dinner," TC Phipps called down from the gym balcony. "I don't feel like babysitting you two anymore so get a move on."

I sighed in frustration, feeling the stronger, pulsing, energy fall away immediately. Weak. Derek knew the least of it, even if he was the closest thing I had to a friend. Hackett had made me promise years ago that I wouldn't tell anyone the truth, even if it meant other people got the wrong impressions. My biotics weren't normal, that much everyone knew. That's as far as it went. What they weren't allowed to know was a whole lot more complicated.

When the doctors tried to put an implant in, my body produced a kinetic barrier impossible to penetrate, stronger even than what an Alliance Vanguard could normally produce. Nobody had an explanation, least of all me. I told them I couldn't control it. They could only agree that something definitely wasn't right. I clearly remember one conversation between the doctor and the Admiral after yet another examination.

"Biotics produce fields that range in color and brilliance depending on the strength of the barrier and how much Element Zero the user was exposed to in their youth," the doctor explained, "This child... it's white, almost silver in color, probably the brightest thing I've seen yet. The security footage your guys salvaged from the guardpost on Mindoir shows her hunkered down. The energy literally jumps out of her like a solar flare. This...explosive display... it's like she went 'supernova' without turning into a black hole. We've never seen anything like it."

"What does that mean, doc?" Hackett asked, "I can't have an uncontrollable biotic anomaly going around killing everyone by accident."

"My theory is this: I think her body instinctively uses this... pure biotic energy to protect herself. After what happened on Mindoir, this isn't surprising in the least. Under heavy amounts of duress, her body uses the kinetic energy as a defense mechanism, which comes out in these heavily charged biotic events. The second time she lashed out with the Private, I think she either unconsciously understood he wasn't a direct threat, or was possibly too physically taxed to do much. The latter seems more likely."

"How does she control it if we can't get an implant in her?"

"She needs to lead a healthier lifestyle to start. I've noted minor malnutrition, severe sleep deprivation, high levels of stress, anxiety, and self-induced isolation. She's forcing herself into this state because of her trauma. What needs to happen is recovery."

"And if she does all that? Will she still be as strong?"

"That I can't say, Admiral, but I do know that you can't chase both rabbits and have two dinners."

About a month into training, my mental health took a serious blow. I wasn't sleeping or eating like the doctor prescribed. Nightmares kept me from shutting my eyes for even a second, and food wouldn't stay down for more than a few minutes. Coupled with the stress of the Alliance's biotics training program, I was suffering to a point that put me over the edge. The day I finally snapped, the day they called Hackett back, I had almost killed my entire class.

Months after of recuperating, eating, and sleeping regularly with the help of medication, my biotics was a fine balance I needed to maintain in order to control my biotics and be healthy at the same time. Hackett checked in on my progress regularly- as his work allowed- to see how his supernova was getting along. I'd figured out years ago that he'd put me into the biotics program to groom me for the military, and I went along with it so long as it meant going after the group of Batarian Slavers that killed my family.

It'd been three years since I'd switched classes, and I'd only had two outbursts, each alone in my dorm where no one but me would get hurt. I had figured out since then how to grasp that white-hot energy, how to bend and shape it without losing control, but I needed anger and fear to access it. In order to live normally, I isolated myself, learned how to commit fully without becoming too emotionally attached and how to control my biotics to the point another biotic wouldn't be able to tell me from an average human. Years of focus and relentless work had culminated to this. I still had a ways to go, but I wanted to be out and enlisted. I wanted to be a Soldier.

In the shower, the hot water sluiced down my back, running over the small nicks and scars from the raid. Flashes of memory still slipped into my mind, squeezing my heart into a vice. I opened my eyes, finished rinsing quickly, and stepped out. No use dwelling in the past. I pulled my blue and grey uniform on, dabbed medi-gel on my swollen face, and walked out the door, down to the mess hall.

"Shepard, hey," someone called from behind. I turned around and saw Instructer Florenn walking down the hall accompanied by none other than Admiral Hackett himself. My heels clicked together unconsciously as I stood at attention, chest out, arms locked at the sides.

"You stand at attention better than most seasoned officers, Shepard," Hackett said, his piercing eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled broadly, "It's nice to see you. Florenn, I can take it from here." Instructor Florenn saluted, and walked away, his boot heels clicking down the hallway and out of earshot.

"It's nice to see you here, Sir," I answered truthfully. "I believe it's already been six months since your last visit."

"My omni-tool read five and a quarter this morning," he nodded, "Business on Earth has kept me busy. How are you?" We began walking towards the dormitories, our usual speaking place during his visits.

I dutifully relayed to him the exact measure of my progress, noting my sparring match with Derek (glossing over the mild failure), and how I had been successfully increasing the range of my biotics.

"Good, I don't want you to stifle your ability though. I need you in your best condition."

"Yessir. I will try gradually strengthening my biotics so that no one suspects anything."

"No need to worry about that, you won't be here long enough anyways." That made me pause. I looked up at his tall, broad frame. My father's face flashed briefly into memory before I squashed it down, shoving the thought to the back of my mind.

He checked our surroundings before bending down to eye-level, "I'm submitting you for basic training early."

"You mean you're enlisting me?" I almost shouted. I took a deep breath, calming the excitement that thrummed through my veins. "How did you do it? I'm barely sixteen."

"You're under a strict no-active-duty provision until you're of age."

"Sir that means four years of basic," my heart sunk. Those who enlisted had two years of training before they qualified for active service; space was too dangerous not to. If I was eighteen after two years of training, I would only just be old enough to enlist and would have to start the process all over again.

"Not necessarily," Hackett said. "If you are at the top of your class by the end of basic, they will consider you for active duty, but Margaret-" Hearing my first name was foreign and strange. "-You can't let your biotics get the best of you. Absolute control is necessary if you're going to do this. You must strengthen your skills, but you cannot -I repeat, cannot- let yourself go supernova."

"Sir, I've been meaning to approach you about that..." I trailed off, looking down.

"Speak your mind," he said, noticing my hesitation. It was now or never.

"Well sir, I was wondering if I might enlist as a Soldier."

"Not as a Vanguard or an Adept? You could probably even make a decent Sentinel if you wanted to, your teachers have remarked on your innate technological skills."

"Sir, my biotics are too unpredictable. My emotions still carry too much weight in my ability to produce safe, effective, and stable fields. The longer I work with them, the more frustrated I get, the more unstable I become. It's why I've been working in the opposite direction."

"Why did you hide this from me?" Hackett asked, his tone carrying the disappointment I was so afraid of.

"I've suspected your expectations for me for a long time sir, I... I didn't want to let you down. I still believe with proper training I can be an asset to the Alliance, just... not as good as you might have thought."

"I...can't say I'm not disappointed," the Admiral started. My heart plummeted through the floor, "but," he continued, "since you've decided this path, I will walk it with you. I brought you here to the Academy thinking you might be one of the strongest biotic assets the Alliance has ever had. Now, knowing the choice you've made, I will send you to basic with the expectation that you will become the best Soldier the Alliance has ever had. Do not let me down, Margaret, you have a hard road ahead of you."

"Yessir," I promised, intending very well to keep it. I could do this, and I would.


	4. Entry 4

[Entry 4: Young Adulthood, Akuze]

"First Assignments everybody, come and get them," Staff Commander Prangley bellowed from the front of the class. It was our last day of basic. Everyone was to be assigned a post based on our aptitude, a questionnaire, a personality test, and a personal preferences checklist. I was finally getting out of here. My skin itched with excitement as I remembered the deal Hackett and I had made two years ago. I had followed through to the letter, stifling my biotic energy deep inside and succeeding on my own physical strength. I no longer felt the pull of it coursing through my body except in the dead of night when it pulsed through my skin in the silence.

"Shep, catch," Toombs said, tossing me my assignment dossier. He was the only one in basic that wasn't intimidated by me, and in retrospect, I think it was because he was a little stupid. He had a genuine heart though, and it was impossible not to entertain a conversation with him. He was easy going, a true charmer, and someone I was truly happy to call a friend.

The past two years in basic had been tough. I had crawled my way from the bottom of the heap to lead the class by a landslide. Academically it was easy enough, but working my physical strength up to spec was a grueling process. I was dwarfed by every man in my class (including Toombs) and nearly every woman. I was just four inches shy of six foot, but it made a world of difference. With a leaner, scrawnier build, it'd been difficult to bulk up. I was still small, but I was one of the strongest in the class, and used my size to outpace and outsmart anybody on the sparring mat.

I laid my hard-earned assignment down on my desk, taking a moment to relish in my victory before I opened it up.

"Akuze?" Toombs shouted, "'Establishing and maintaining an agrarian research colony, providing assistance and protection-'are you kidding me?" murmurs of condolences went around the room, as people looked up from their own assignments.

"At least you'll be in good company," Staff Commander called from the front of the room, "Shepard's going there too, so there's even less chance that you'll die."

"Can you die on such a boring assignment Commander?" Patrick Heath blurted.

"If it's Toombs, I'm sure he'll find a way." The entire class laughed. Toombs turned towards me.

"Is it true Shep?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep," I smiled, flipping my assigment open on the desk to show him. I had purposefully chosen the colony-establishment project for its position near the edge of the Terminus and it's high risk for raids. I knew Hackett had much bigger plans for me, but until then, this is what I was doing.

"At least it won't be boring," he grinned back.

I certainly hope not.

We were three weeks in, tracking down a pioneer team that'd gone missing across a wide valley, when the Thresher Maws came out of nowhere. One minute everything was quiet and peaceful like every other day had been; the next, our temporary outposts were getting torn out of the ground and flung across the valley. Toombs was snatched first, his body crushed in one Maw's grip. I shot uselessly at another with my assault rifle, while our Team Leader, Commander Paxson, lobbed an incendiary into the mouth of a third.

There had been fifty of us on the patrol. It was down to three. I screamed for Toombs, dodging the acidic Thresher venom that came bulleting towards us from all angles. Lieutenant Briggs wasn't so lucky. His body immediately combusted, forcing Paxson back on her heels. I snatched her by the collar of her armor and pulled her down before she fell into the jaws of another expectant Thresher. The pioneer scientists were all dead, of that I was sure, but if I could save one person, it was going to be my own goddamn Commander.

"What do we do Ma'am?!" I hollered. We needed to leave, now.

"Just keep moving!" Paxson shouted back. We dodged a rain of dirt and debris as one of the bigger Threshers ripped a segment of the guard tower out of the ground. "We need to get over the rise and get to the MAKOs if we want to get out of here! The satellite research outpost is about three clicks west from here!"

My senses kicked into overdrive as we jumped down to the ground and stormed through the remains of the camp, ducking and weaving out of range of the Thresher venom. Just as we reached the rise, my body went weightless.

"Shepard!" I heard Paxson shout. She paused for a fraction of a second, enough time for another Thresher Maw to rip her from her place. I heard screams, and then nothing.

A long-forgotten energy radiated from my core, flooding my veins with pure, sun-hot energy. It burst out, all at once, reaching nuclear-levels. I fell, the crushing grip on my lungs no longer there and landed hard in a pile of dirt, face down. For a moment I laid there, the world spinning out of control. The roar of my heartbeat in my ears was all I could register, until a deafening raptor-like shriek from the remaining Thresher Maws startled me into action. I scrambled to my feet, up the ridge, into a MAKO, and away without ever looking back.

"The only survivor out of fifty soldiers, more than half of them four times as experienced, and you're telling me this kid is the only one that survived?" I was sitting on a bench in some space station. There's an Admiral -one I'm not familiar with- and two other higher-brass going over my mission report. I tried to get them to put me in contact with Hackett, but nobody was listening.

Every time I closed my eyes Toombs was screaming for help, his face contorted in pain along with all the others. I failed them. This thought, above all the others pervaded my mind. Fifty soldiers, forty-nine dead. I'd gone supernova at the last second, only to save my own skin. How could I call myself a Marine if I couldn't save my own teammates?

"We have each other's backs," Paxson would always say. "Even if the assignment is just watching scientists play with dirt and set up camp," she paused, the older soldiers groaning good-naturedly. She smiled, "Even so, we are the first and last line of defense out here. This is uncharted territory, and we're going to make sure everyone gets back home safe, ya hear?"

They all laid dead before me, torn, burning, broken. Each of their faces was one I could never forget. I opened up my omni-tool, and began recording names.


	5. Entry 5

[Entry 5: Young Adulthood, the Skyllian Blitz]

I ended up receiving a commendation for surviving Akuze, the youngest to ever do so. About a year of shit postings and small-time ops passed before I got another long-term colony assignment, this time on Elysium. Quiet, established, no surprises. After Akuze I was more than willing to walk a barricade for five hours twice a day. It was a routine patrol, months in on post. I was out on guard when I saw dust clouds building up on the horizon beyond the colony's borders.

"Cap, are you seeing this?" I radioed, my eyes squinting to see further.

"Probably just weather," he replied, gruff. Cap considered all the young soldiers like me to be "brash idiots who don't know their ass from a shotgun" and in some cases, I couldn't argue, but this time my gut was telling me something was up.

"Priya, can you scan out ten clicks in all directions for me?"

"Uhhh, yeah. Looks like... yeah, there are definitely some heat-signatures in the distance, fast approaching too," she answered.

"Cap I don't like this. I think we should issue an alert."

"It's probably a damn Merchant Transport Shepard, check the manifest. You do this at least once a patrol. Next time I'm assig-" Shots rang out from across the colony, followed by a fiery explosion.

"Enemy at the West End! Requesting back up, we need colonist evac and a medic!"

I booked it from my post, hailing two privates who were looking around in confusion.

"Round up the others," I told one, "Start colonist evac from all quadrants." The first went running as I told the other, "get Priya to contact the Alliance and issue a full red-alert. Go!"

I grabbed a sniper rifle, two pistols, and a shotgun from the weapons locker, picking up extra packets of medi-gel and three extra grenades as I stormed out of the tower. The colony was small, but covered a wide area, and I could see civilians ducking in and out of buildings to avoid incoming fire.

I pulled out a pistol, firing two quick rounds into two separate enemies as they forced their way up the stairs into the guard perimeter. They slumped against each other as they fell to the ground, blocking two more more from coming up. I quickly dispatched the two, throwing an incendiary grenade down the stairs to discourage others from joining.

Without pause, I continued along the perimeter catwalk, taking out anyone from above while making sure to keep in cover. My blood thrummed with adrenaline, this is what I was meant to do. I blocked as many entrances to the catwalk as I encountered, using enemy grenades when I ran out of my own. I made it to the West End look-out, pulling the sniper rifle out just in time to dispatch a raider who nearly dragged a colonist into the crosshairs. She ran back towards the Bunker, a network of caves accessible from a few key "safe-zones" throughout the colony.

Simmons and Hanon helped an injured Kroavic into a civilian's house, suppressing fire from two sides. I began picking off enemies from my perch, my blood singing every time one went down. The lines were beginning to thin, and the Alliance Navy responded with promise of back up. So far, I didn't know of anyone who'd died, no one had called in on the radio. Even Kroavic was holding on, using his good arm to fire disrupting rounds at the enemy's shields.

A thud rocked my perch from below.

"It's about time someone found me," I muttered, just as a Batarian Mercenary burst through the trapdoor. I kicked him square in the face, stunning him a moment so I could swing my rifle around. Before I could pull the trigger, he grabbed the muzzle of the rifle and yanked forward, pulling me with it. A bullet from his gun grazed the side of my head as I jerked to the side, swinging my legs around to kick him repeatedly. If I could just-

"Shepard we need that suppressive fire, we're getting hammered!" Hanon radioed.

"A bit busy!" I shouted, hoping he could hear me without the radio.

I kicked the pistol out of the Batarian's hand, pulling one of my own out. I shot twice, nailing him in the forehead just as a missile hit the perch all together and we both went flying. Something sharp and metallic kissed the side of my face, nearly puncturing my eye. Blood began to well in my vision just as another explosion launched me into the dirt. A loud ringing filled my ears, black dots swimming across my line of sight. I grunted, rolling over. Wiping my face, I struggled upright, trying to ignore the blinding sting as best I could before running back into the fray.

Shot after shot, I plowed forward, my pistol overheating twice before I traded it for the shotgun. I began taking heat from two sides, using the remains of the buildings for cover.

"Shepard's still out there!" I heard on the radio, "The Sniper Perch got blown, but I saw her moving up the hill!"

"Alliance Navy is almost here, she just needs to hold on a little longer!"

No sooner had the Captain spoken when the Alliance Navy began barraging the colony from armored shuttles, cutting down raider reinforcements left and right. With the suppressed fire weakening enemy lines, I cut out for Bunker. I fired with my extra pistol, taking out as many as I could before I hit the line of soldiers waiting at the entrance.

"She made it!"

"Shepard holy shit!"

"They're falling back! We did it!"

The Blitz was everywhere when I got back. An unrivaled Alliance Victory, combated nearly single-handedly by the young Operations Chief Margaret Shepard. At twenty, I was awarded another commendation and the Bronze Star. As one of the youngest Lieutenants in the Alliance, I oversaw a minor short-term operation until the AICA designated me for the N7 program. A year and a half after the events of the Skyllian Blitz, the Alliance requested my assistance on a tactical offensive that would see the raiders from the Blitz destroyed. Of course I agreed.

Don't worry Jonathan, I thought. You, Mom, and Dad will be able to rest easy soon enough.


	6. Entry 6

[Entry 6: Young Adulthood, Torfan]

Butcher. Murderer. Ruthless.

Some mistakes cannot be forgiven.

"Major, take a look at this," I prompted, showing my commanding officer the bunker schematics. "If we take this left flank, your team can focus on the main doors, while a section of mine offers suppressive fire. Over here is a secondary entrance into the bunker for cargo-loading. If I lead my team inside while you hold the front..." my fingers traced paths on the schematics, marking locations for the assault, "We cut the head off the cobra, and the bunker is ours."

"You make it sound so easy, Shepard," Major Kyle replies, looking at me with slight disbelief.

"Don't worry sir," I assured him. "We have the advantage of numbers and firepower, nothing can go wrong."

I was feeling good, cocky. The way my fellow soldiers looked at me, they knew who I was. Lieutenant Commander Margaret Shepard, Sole Survivor of the horrific Akuze massacre, War Hero of the legendary Skyllian Blitz, the youngest ever to achieve so much in such a short amount of time. Every time I met eyes with someone my age, a Servicemen or NCO, they looked on in awe. It was empowering to have so much control, and I let the glory of it wash over me. Akuze, the Blitz, and my year training with the N7 taught me that my life could end at any given moment, but the second I had stepped down on Torfan, I felt untouchable. I was going to make these Batarian pieces of trash pay and it was going to be good.

I only forgot the two most important things in the Marines: Mortality and Humility.

It almost cost me everything.

"I trust you Shepard," Major Kyle nodded. I saluted, and left to gather my team, unconcerned with the gravity of the mission ahead.

We started strong, surrounding the base on all exposed sides, using Torfan's natural rock formations and the bunker's small cargo port as cover. My team cut off to the left flank, and I spied the cargo doors immediately. Every soldier was poised, waiting for my mark.

We weren't expecting them to be so prepared.

When the firing started, both sides traded equal blows; for every slaver a soldier also fell. The stagnation went on for what felt like hours, until the cargo door opened and a wave of slaver reinforcements came flooding out. I heard Major Kyle call for another round of missile fire on the radio and took cover when Pax, my team's demo-expert, whipped out his own launcher, firing two pulses at the cargo bay. I sniped the stragglers, making sure to keep an eye on the main door. We were making progress, ever so slowly. Just a little more pressure...

"Pax!" I shouted from cover, "Keep suppressing that cargo bay! We need to move forward!"

"Roger!" he barked, lining up the shot. He primed the launcher, venting the coils before firing again. Kapernack took aim as soon as Pax ducked into cover, the two working in seamless unison to suppress the flank.

"Shepard whatever you're doing is working!" Kyle radioed, "Maintain the heat!"

"Yessir!" I confirmed before ducking behind a set of boulders. Rock exploded all around me. I made eye-contact with Johnston, my second-in-command. We were ready.

"Johnston, Book it!" I radioed. He ducked out from behind the main flank, motioning for other members of our team to join him at our forward position. They spread out smoothly, covering each other with concentrated fire.

"Pax! Cover!"

"Right away!"

"Shepard don't open it too wide," Major Kyle warned, "We'll have gaps in the chain."

"Roger Sir, moving out!" I motioned Johnston and turned to suppress fire from the main door. Pax, Kapernack and others in position covered the cargo bay while half my team lined up to storm the base. The other half I motioned back, ordering to spread across the flank and maintain heat on the front. With a nod to Johnston, I took my half -forty men and women- and forged ahead into the bunker.

They'd retreated deep, taking up defensive positions behind shipping crates, vehicles, towering metal shelves and natural rock formations. The bunker was sunk into the side of a small mountain, held up by massive pillars and beams.

"Check your sights, there are a lot of places to hide," I warned my troops, motioning for them to split and fan out. Pax took Kapernack and half the men around the right and I headed to the left, motioning to the service catwalks that probably spanned the entire cave network. "Keep an eye on the sky," I radioed, receiving a copy from Pax. My team filed through to the main warehouse, taking out pockets of slavers as they appeared.

"Is this really all of them?" a young private, Collins, asked.

"Most of them are out front, Pax and Kapernack should hit them from behind any second now," I assured her, reaching the end of a hallway. "Keep an eye on those catwalks when we hit the interior," I warned the team. Those guys could take care of themselves; Pax was even due for an N7 invitation. "We're looking for the leader of operations, a Batarian privateer named Rachia Saf'Saraal. He's a-" A round of slugs nearly took my ear off, pelting the doorway where I had just been. My arm extended protectively in front of Collins as I forced us all back.

"Fuckin' bloody Hell," McIvor cursed from behind Collins.

"I want tight formations," I ordered, "At least one eye on the walks at all times, keep in cover and don't overheat. Clear?" Once I received a hearty copy, I ordered them out.

I sent in five squads of four, heading in with the last bunch just as Pax radioed that he made contact with the front squad.

"LC they're everywhere," Pax hollered, gunfire clipping his words short. "Major Kyle called in the last of the heavies. We got them scattered!"

"Keep it up!" I answered, leaning out of cover. I fired a quick burst, hitting a flame-retardant canister on the wall. It exploded out into the room, bathing everything white dust. Fire ceased just long enough for my team to give a status update. So far Collins and Petrov were the only ones injured, but no one was dead. When the dust settled relatively, the firing recommenced. It took us a bit of time, but the room emptied, and soon we were regrouping at the rear wall.

"Not too bad, aye?" McIvor whooped.

""Keep up the momentum," I nodded, feeling the adrenaline pulse through my body with every heartbeat. "This is it, we got 'em cornered."

We were ambushed the second we charged in. The room was almost empty, save for a massive bar and a scattering of furniture. Lined up along the catwalks were the rest of the slavers, sending a barrage raining down on top of us. My group split. I dove behind the bar at the side of the room, taking stock of where my teammates were. Three along the right side, two behind the couch, three behind the bar with me. Collins was with two others behind the lip of the automated door, barely holding on. Petrov was in the middle of the floor next to Fredricks, both motionless. The other seven were scattered around, taking pot shots where they could. It was an absolute mess.

I would never forget what happened next.

Like some slow replay of a sports vid, a frag grenade came sailing out from the balcony straight for the couch McIvor was pressed against. Without thinking, I leapt over the side of the bar, dropping my weapons. The energy hidden deep within my core bloomed fully with the shot of adrenaline that flooded my veins. It spread out from there as I reached the center of the room, deflecting the grenade, and everything else close to me. Before I could reign it in, the pure, raw biotics I'd shoved deep down exploded outwards all at once, fully unrestrained. The world went completely white, my ears ringing. I hit the bunker floor on my back registering nothing but the pain in my chest. Was I having a heart-attack? I felt stripped down, vulnerable, and I was in such agony. I'd never felt such a blindingly visceral pain before in all my life.

"Shepard? Shepard! What's gone on in there?!" Major Kyle shouted over the com.

I could barely feel the words that tumbled out of my mouth, "Ambush. We...out-numbered. McIvor... I-I- the grenade... went ...Supernova."

"Shepard, you're not making any sense. Shepard? Are you all clear? Shepard?"

"Penelope Collins, PVT 1st Class, Torfan. Ewen McIvor, Gunnery Chief, Torfan. Blake Harvey, Corporal, Torfan."

Their names got added to a list that just kept growing. I listened to the entire list again, making sure everyone was accounted for, re-saved the file on my omni-tool, and closed it. I'd been trying to save them and instead done exactly the opposite. The Alliance hailed it a victory, but it was an absolute shit-fest. Everyone knew it. No one walked away the same.

Major Kyle was admitted into an Alliance Vet Hospital for severe PTSD as well as several of his own men. Half of my infiltration team made it out, the half I designated to Pax. Those who were with me in that room... every last one was gone. When I unleashed my biotics, I released a Warp so strong it ripped apart every living creature in the room. I woke up surrounded by fragments of my own men, slaver's blood spilling over the side of the catwalks like some kind of grotesque waterfall. We'd already suffered heavy losses, unnecessary losses, and I had only added to it.

If I'd just thought it out before charging into that room...

We'd had them on the back foot, ready to surrender, and I'd insisted we take out the Batarian crime boss. Twenty of my men and a third of Major Kyle's company had fallen, all because I was cocky enough to think it was going to be an easy in-and-out. Because I thought I was avenging my family.

Survivors in the company called me "Ruthless", "Murderer", and "The Butcher of Torfan" when they heard about the carnage I'd left behind in the bunker. Still, I was promoted to Staff Commander, and received another commendation and a medal for my efforts. I was not, however, asked to take part in the ensuing Theshaca Raids. I was glad.

I worked countless N7 missions as a Soldier, honing my skills on the field and gaining leadership experience. After Torfan, I never lost another person under my command. I hardened, separating myself from my teams emotionally. I got called a number of unsavory things, but in the end, they all had their lives.

"It's a shame though," I remember one soldier, Timothy Wyre, saying to the other teammates on post, "she's only twenty-three, but she acts like a stone wall. She's unshakeable."

"Can you imagine what she's been through though?" Engineer Carson chided. "Akuze, the Blitz, and Torfan. She's either got the best luck or the worst luck to have gotten slated for those three missions and have survived them all. I know I wouldn't be the same after all of that."

"She's a total badass," Lt. Eagan agreed. "Her facial scar is fucking crazy too."

They kept talking long into the night, even as I fell asleep, my heart like lead in my chest.

Udina looked upon the SSV Normandy with contempt before turning to the acting Captain, David Anderson and the Admiral, Steven Hackett.

"How many billions of credits did this cost?" he asked.

"A number high enough to blind you," Anderson answered flatly. His eyes grazed over the sleek edges of the Turian/Human Collaboration. This had the Council's fingerprints everywhere. Just what he needed, more bureaucracy.

"Have you decided on a candidate yet?" Hackett asked, eyes roaming along the frigate's fully-streamlined hull. She was certainly a looker.

"Well, what about that Shepard?" Udina prompted before Hackett could continue, "The one who grew up in the colonies."

"She knows how tough life can be out there," Hackett added, "Her family was killed when slavers attacked Mindoir."

"She's been through the worst of the worst," Anderson agreed, already seeming to have made up his mind a long time ago. Hackett could never tell with him. "And she's come out on top every time."

"Shepard's a survivor, that much doesn't need to be said. Hell just look at her track record. Akuze? The Blitz?"

"Are you sure you want the 'Butcher of Torfan' as your Second-in-Command?" Udina asked, suddenly uncertain.

"Not every operation is a smooth ride," Anderson mulled quietly, his face betraying old memories, "She made it possible for the Alliance to drive out all opposition in the Hong System. She gets results."

"Is that the kind of person we want protecting the galaxy?" Udina asked.

"That's the only kind of person who can protect the galaxy," Anderson affirmed, his eyes already sparking with anticipation.

"I'll...make the call," Udina confirmed, walking towards the docking bay elevator.

"She's young, Admiral," Captain Anderson commented when the elevator doors finally closed on Udina. "And from all of what you've told me..." He trailed off, his own uncertainty clear in the silence between them.

"She's the best of the best, Anderson," Hackett reaffirmed. "I can personally vouch for that."

"For the sake of the Alliance, I hope you're right."


	7. Entry 7

[Entry 7: Our Story Begins]

"Turian-Alliance Project?" I asked, sipping at a piping mug of ditch-water coffee, one eye still trained on the mission brief projected on my omni-tool. Hackett's hologram nodded from the table, fizzling in and out of focus as the FTL connection adjusted to Apex Station's movement around Saturn.

"A 'deep-scout' frigate; joint-planning and construction," I followed along the brief as he explained, "Revolutionary space-faring technology wrapped up in a diplomatic gesture of goodwill between the Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy."

"With the amount of Element Zero they put into the drive core," I said, reading off the numbers, "the Alliance could have paid for an entire fleet of Dreadnaughts. This is ambitious, Admiral." I paused looking at the hologram, then said, "What are they hoping to achieve?"

"The Stealth Drive is the main thing," Hackett nodded again, "The SSV Normandy can supposedly mask its heat presence for hours on end in the vacuum of space."

"That's no small feat," I acknowledged, "but all that energy has to vent somewhere."

"They project that the Normandy can sit in orbit anywhere from six to ten hours without enemy detection before venting becomes necessary. It's one of the many things they'll be testing on the shakedown."

"About that..." I trailed off, setting my empty mug down. My fingers unconsciously began massaging the bridge of my nose as I tried to piece together my thoughts, "You pulled me out of a high-risk N7 op for a shakedown? That doesn't make sense Admiral. I'm a foot soldier, not a sailor. My longest stint on a ship lasted a week." My omni-tool went dark as I continued speaking directly to the hologram.

"The Council wants the best of the best on that ship to ensure that their investment does not fall through, Shepard," Hackett said carefully, "They're sending a turian SPECTRE to oversee for the other side. As the XO, you'll be able to monitor things Captain Anderson can't." He stopped, seeming to look for more to say. His hesitation told me what I needed to know: I wasn't being told the 100% God's Honest Truth.

"Look," he quickly added, "This is a big chance for the Alliance to prove their worth to the Council, Shepard, so we're putting our best foot forward, and that means sending you. You're the Alliance's number one operative."

"Does Anderson know I'm a biotic?" I immediately ask.

"Yes," came the immediate reply.

"Does he know that I'm unstable?"

"Shepard, you have to trust yourself. Over the past three years, you've calmed your biotics to the point that even I sometimes forget you had the gift in the first place. Anderson knows the truth behind Torfan, he doesn't blame you, just like I don't. He of all people knows what it's like when an op goes south."

The silence that followed was punctuated by my own deep-breathing. I was thinking. It's just a shakedown, easy. So simple a Private could do it, but then... why send me? Something isn't adding up. Hackett came to me directly for this mission, which he hasn't done since I joined the is something too important to excuse myself from. Besides, Hackett is right, I have to start moving on at some point, it might as well be now. My eyes fluttered shut as I exhaled with finality.

"So you'll do it?" Even over FTL I felt the piercing calculation of his raptor-like blue eyes. I'd known him for so long, but that gaze still brought me straight back to my childhood, standing in front of his desk as he appraised me from his seat. It was a challenge, one that I could not refuse. I looked straight into the hologram's profiler, hopefully dead into his eyes. I was bred from challenge.

"Yessir."

The Normandy Project chartered an FTL shuttle to pick me up from Apex the next day. I packed up everything I owned, which wasn't much. A few Civs, the two onboard Navy uniforms I was provided, my N7 armor and gear, my formal clothes and my personals. My fingers traced the engraved edges of the small, wooden, keepsake box I kept under my bunk before nestling it amongst my clothing. Everything within it was a piece of my past, things I was never allowed to forget. It wasn't out of sentimentality that I did this, but a necessity. These things kept me Human.

"At ease, Commander Shepard. It's nice to finally meet you," Captain Anderson greeted from the Normandy's entrance. He answered my salute, then extended his hand. It was large, warm, calloused, and dry when I took it. I blinked, and for a split second found myself in the body of my old self -on Mindoir- my father's sun-kissed hand grasping mine as we strolled through the fields during the dry season. I blinked again and it vanished.

"I hope the flight went smoothly," He continued. I assured him it did.

Anderson was shorter than I originally thought, but thick and well-muscled, his years in active service showing in the salt-and-peppered dusting on his buzzed head, the creases at his eyes, mouth, and forehead, and the steely assurance in his almost-black brown eyes. The dark skin of his hand was etched with scars similar to mine, an occupational hazard when you handled weapons of any kind. He smiled briefly- genuinely- and in that moment I knew Anderson was going to be a strong asset to have.

"I look forward to working with you, Shepard," he offered warmly, "I've heard many things about you."

"All good I hope, Sir," I replied earnestly, "Thank you for having me." We moved to the side, letting some of the ship's crew load three footlockers through the portside Airlock of the SSV Normandy. One of them was probably mine.

I'd poured over the ship's specs, learning her from the inside out, but she was entirely different in person. The Normandy's forward was sleek and thin, widening out considerably at the aft. She was smaller than the transports I was accustomed to, but her sleek dual-wings and considerable main gun convinced me I would rather be on her than any other ship in the entire galaxy. Engineers scuttled underneath and inside her, calibrating her systems for the last time, checking and rechecking both the hardware and the software.

"The rest of the crew is already settling in Commander," Anderson stated, walking us both inside. The airlock closed behind us. A grid of diagnostics scanners swept through the airlock slowly, three times. Equalizing interior pressure with exterior atmosphere... LOGGED: Captain Anderson is Aboard, XO Shepard stands relieved. The interior doors opened.

"I'd like you to meet Lt. Jeff Moreau first Commander," Anderson said, leading us left into the cockpit. "He'll be manning the Normandy for the duration of the mission."

"Yeah but like, what are they for," I heard someone ask. His voice was brash and cocky, and I immediately knew this was someone I was either going to love or hate- no in-between.

The voice was coming from a young man, probably around my age, sitting in the pilot's seat. His Alliance reg ball-cap couldn't hide the riot of red curls poking out from under the sides and a rough, patchy beard was sprouting unevenly across his square jaw-line. My opinion was leaning more towards hatred.

"I mean, strictly speaking," he continued, not registering my or the Captain's presences, "mandibles are used for like shredding or tearing or ripping or, you know, eating, but a Turian's mandibles don't look like they could do anything remotely close to that. So like, do they have an actual purpose or do they just- you know... do that thing where they-" he put his hands on either side of his face, mimicking some sort of flapping creature.

"Joker, I don't suppose this is in response to meeting our SPECTRE guest?" Anderson chided from behind him. To my amusement, the lieutenant almost jumped through the cockpit's ceiling at the surprise.

"JESUS Captain, you scared me shitless!" He yelped, grabbing the arms of his chair. "I-I-I-I- I mean Captain, woah, hello there sir, I didn't see you there sir, I-I-I- I'm sorry sir I-"

"At ease, Lieutenant," the Captain interrupted, effectively shutting him down. He bent over the shoulder of the chair, patting Moreau on the shoulder with a sudden affection I wasn't quite expecting. "Remember that you are always being watched. If it's not me, it's Nihlus or the Commander here, so make sure you're on your best behavior, Joker."

"Yessir," he affirmed, the red in his face slowly draining. He turned to me in his chair, saluting, "Commander. Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau, but everybody calls me 'Joker'. I'll be piloting for the shakedown."

"I look forward to flying with you," I nodded, answering his salute. He seemed honest to a fault, and if Anderson regarded him so warmly... I decided to re-evaluate my opinion of Joker.

"This is Staff Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko," the Captain continued, gesturing to the man on Joker's right. "Joker's second until the Ensign finishes calibrations." The man had been quiet the whole time, but met my eyes evenly when I looked over at him.

Straightforward, unwavering, calm. He was definitely experienced, maybe mid twenties or early thirties. His hair was a traditional high-and-tight, and dark, almost raven colored; his eyes dark hazel, leaning towards brown. He saluted sharply, and greeted me with straight formality, all business, none of Joker's nonsense. I knew in a heartbeat I was going to like this one.

His voice was as calm as his demeanor, a gravelly tenor, as he spoke up, "I look forward to working with you Commander, your record is impressive, if I may say so."

"Thank you," I nodded slightly, answering his salute. "I'm interested in seeing the Normandy's full capabilities. I'm sure since Anderson picked you both this shakedown will go as smoothly as planned."

"Well don't jinx it," Joker interjected.

"Joker," Anderson warned before turning to me, "feel free to walk the ship for now, maybe settle into your bunk and review your medical profile with our onboard physician Dr. Chakwas on mid-deck."

"Chakwas?" I asked, my eyes widening. It couldn't be. "Karin Chakwas?"

"Yes," he nodded head tilting in question. I swallowed. My time in the mobile space hospital seemed like a lifetime ago. The universe was a lot smaller than I thought.

"I know her," I finally said. "It'll be good to see her again."

"Then I suggest seeing her first. You'll also have to meet the SPECTRE on board, a Turian named Nihlus Kryik. He'll be evaluating the efficiency of the shakedown and reporting back to the Council." The way Anderson said "Council" made me think that politics was something the man detested.

"I'll be in my cabin, tieing up loose ends before we pull out of the Station. Loading should be done by now. All that's left is final check."

"I'll wait for your mark."

"Welcome Aboard the SSV Normandy, Commander Shepard. I look forward to seeing what you can do."


	8. Entry 8

[Entry 8: Eden Prime Part 1]

I could feel his eyes appraising me. The SPECTRE- Nihlus- was at every turn, and there weren't very many, considering the relatively small size of the Normandy. We were just a few days out from the station, twelve hours from the Arcturus Prime Relay. The jump would take us to Eden Prime, an agrarian human colony on the edge of the Terminus, like Mindoir. From there, we would finish preliminary shakedown tests and proceed to the Citadel for final evaluation. It was all by-the-book, but something didn't feel quite right.

My hands worked mindlessly, cleaning each separate piece of my pistol with practiced efficiency. I set the oilcloth down, reconstructing the Stiletto slowly, deliberately while pointedly ignoring the pair of shrewd, lazer-green eyes boring into my shoulder blades. What was he on about? It was relatively quiet in the hold, save for the ever-present hum of Normandy's massive drive-core that was more felt than heard.

"Approaching Mass Effect Relay in T-minus 5 minutes," Joker reported over the intercom. Joker was good, that much I'd quickly figured out, and he was professional- when it mattered. "I repeat, we are approaching proper vectors, all-hands on deck for Relay approach."

My head swiveled to the left. Nihlus was gone. Without a second thought, I threw the oilcloth down, tucked the Stiletto between my belt and my lower back and headed up to deck two in the Normandy's elevator (one of the few mechanical oversights of the ship; damn thing moved slower than a crippled tortoise). From mid-deck I took the stairs two at a time up to the CIC, and strode towards command position.

"The Arcturus Prime relay is in range. Initiating transmission sequence."

The crew bustled around the ship's Galaxy Map, sending their all-clears through the terminals.

"We are connected. Calculating transit mass and destination.."

Navigator Pressly confirmed Joker's calculations, punching his own digits into the system.

"Relay is hot, Acquiring approach vector. All stations secure for transit."

The cockpit was thick with anticipation. Nihlus stood carefully to the right of Joker, arms crossed, eyes trained on the boards. Lt. Alenko was stationed in the Co-Pilot's chair, Ensign Willem busy at the terminal to my left. I planted my feet firmly to the left of Joker's chair, far enough back not to disrupt his concentration.

"The board is green. Approach run has begun."

This was it. The Normandy boosted towards the Relay, blue light pouring in through the ports on either side of the cockpit. The light grew in intensity, the Normandy's hull humming as our kinetic barriers came in contact with the Relay's pulsing energy.

"Hitting the relay in 3...2...1..."

A beam of energy pulled us into the Relay's field, the Normandy's own power slacking as we prepared to slingshot. The Relay tucked back, it's energy making the hull of our ship sing. Like a gunshot we blasted forward, light filling the cockpit. Then it was over.

"Thrusters... check. Navigation... check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift... just under 1500 K."

Nihlus spoke before I could, "1500 is good. Your captain will be pleased." No hint of a job well done was in his voice, his face stiff and appraising. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

It was quiet for a moment, before Joker said, "I hate that guy." He sounded more resigned than resentful.

The LT's head tilted slightly, "Nihlus gave you a compliment... so you hate him?"

"Remember to zip up your jumpsuit on the way out of the bathroom, that's good," He blurted, the anger bubbling over, "I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead, so that's incredible." He paused, shaking his head, "Besides, SPECTREs are trouble. I don't like having him on board. Call me paranoid." For once, he and I agreed.

"You're paranoid," Alenko supplied, deadpan. "The Council helped fund this project. They have a right to send someone to keep an eye on their investment."

"Yeah, that is the official story. But only an idiot believes the official story."

"I'm inclined to take Joker's side on this one," I interrupted, Alenko's head turning slightly in acknowledgement. "Unfortunately, it's useless to speculate without all the information."

"Fair enough, but with an investment this huge, a back-country little planet like Eden Prime doesn't seem like the right kind of destination for a shakedown. It definitely shouldn't require engaging the stealth systems," Joker pushed. "Besides the Alliance doesn't send someone like Anderson anywhere unless there's a good reason, so what are we doing?"

It was a good question, one whose answer even I wasn't privy to. I didn't like being in the dark, especially since Nihlus seemed like he was in on the gag.

"Joker! Status Report," Anderson commed from mid-deck, effectively silencing any further conversation.

"Just cleared the mass relay, Cap," Joker reported automatically. "Stealth systems engaged. Everything looks solid."

"Good. Find a comm buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports relayed back to Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."

"Aye, Aye, Captain. Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way."

"He's already here, Lieutenant." Joker's head wagged slightly with chagrin. My mouth tipped up at the corner. "Tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the Comm Room for a debriefing in five." The link closed with a beep. Something heavy weighted the air in the cockpit. Something I wasn't picking up on that nagged the back of my mind.

"Did you get that Commander?" Joker sighed. He must've felt it too.

"The Captain sounds pissed," I noted, working my jaw until it cracked. "I guess I'd better go find out what about."

As I turned to leave I heard Joker mulling over his thoughts outloud, "Wait, hasn't the Captain always sounded like that?"

Alenko answered smartly, "Only when he's talking to you, Joker."

I walked through CIC, and heard Pressly talking heatedly with someone over his comm. He spoke with a haughty, disapproving tone. I instantly knew it was about Nihlus. Pressly was a great Navigator, probably one of the best, but his heart was in the wrong place. He lived through the First Contact War, so his impression of the Turians wasn't all that fond. I understood where he was coming from, but it was twenty years ago and the man was on a ship that was built by both Turians and Humans. I couldn't understand the vindictive nature of his feelings towards Nihlus.

Doctor Chakwas was also topside -a rare sight- but when I saw who she was talking to, I knew why. She and I had connected again on Day One, and it was nice albeit incredibly awkward. She understood on some level that I denied myself the ability to think about the past. A young Private, Richard L. Jenkins was beside her. He was just out of basic, graduated top of his class, but he was eager. Too eager. I knew from his record that Eden Prime was his home, and that the shakedown was his first major operation. He was greener than the bean sprouts my parents grew, and it was endearing on some level, but incredibly dangerous.

I nodded to them both as I passed behind the CIC's wall and around back to the Comm Room. Eight chairs ringed the space, four on each side, with a large holo-port on the back wall. Nihlus stood with his back to me contemplating his omni-tool. He was geared up, his SPECTRE rec. Pistol, Shotgun, and Assault Rifle locked in place on his back and hip, his helmet on one of the chairs. What did Anderson tell him?

He turned as I stepped off the ramp and into the circle of the room.

"Ah, Shepard, I was hoping you would get here before the Captain. Gives us the chance to talk." His eyes bored into mine, calculating. This shrewdness was on a whole different level, even Hackett's hawk-eyes couldn't be compared to the cold observation of the turian in front of me.

Nihlus's hard, scaled features were deep crimson, save for the streaks of white that lined his face like a macabre death-mask. Turians were all harsh lines. Bones grew backwards out of his cheeks and forehead, thinning out at the back to a fine point. Sharp mandibles protruded out from his jaw, moving and flexing as separate muscles from the rest of his face. His nose was flat and geometric, with three slits for nostrils on its bridge. It all combined into something reminiscent of a dragon, like in those old vids from Earth from way back in the 21st Century.

I returned his gaze evenly, feeling a slight pressure building in my core. He's testing you.

"What about?" I kept it short, offering as little as possible.

"I'm interested in this world we're going to - Eden Prime," Nihlus began circling me as he spoke, making my teeth clench. My back straightened under his scrutiny, my hands naturally crossing at my back. "I've heard it's quite beautiful."

"I wouldn't know," I responded, arranging my features carefully. My eyes flicked up, he was directly in front of me. "I've never been."

"But you've done the homework," he stated. He continued circling. "You know of it's symbolic value to the Alliance and Humanity. It's proof that Humans can not only establish colonies across the galaxy, but protect them as well." He was at my left, hovering ever so slightly as he said, "but how safe is it really?"

My head turned slightly, skin prickling with wary anticipation. There was more to the question than he was asking outright. "What are you asking?" I ventured.

Once again he was in my view, walking towards the holo-projector at the front of the room. With his back still turned, he spoke, "Your people are still newcomers, Commander, and the galaxy is a very dangerous place. Is the Alliance truly ready for the responsibilities and the consequences of-"

"I think it's time we told the Commander what's really going on," Anderson interrupted. It was as if he had appeared straight from the shadows, no warning, no sound, no detectable presence until he was directly at my back. Nihlus whipped around, clearly not anticipating the Captain's sudden arrival. I quickly side-stepped, automatically offering a quick salute. He returned it.

"Captain?" I asked. He nodded to Nihlus, who was once again stone-faced and resolute.

"This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run," the turian said, confirming both Joker's and my nagging suspicions.

I closed my eyes, exhaling in one beat. Now I knew why Hackett pushed me into this. "I figured there were a few things you weren't telling us, Captain."

"We're making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime," Anderson explained, "That's why we needed the stealth systems operational."

"Any reason you didn't brief me on this sooner?"

"Orders are straight from the top. Everything is on a strictly need-to-know basis." All business, no apology.

"What's the payload?" I asked.

"All we know is that an archaeological team unearthed some kind of beacon or data cache during an excavation. They called for the Alliance, identifying it as Prothean."

The Protheans. 50,000 year old aliens who once inhabited the entire galaxy. I knew from Academy that the Mars Archives were essentially a giant Prothean data cache, one that pushed Earth into the reaches of Space. Beyond that, I knew next to nothing. They disappeared from History with barely a trace, but pieces of their technology littered the galaxy, and were nearly invaluable. I suddenly understood the real reason behind Nihlus's presence on board.

"I don't think I have to tell you how big this is, Shepard," Anderson continued. "The last time humanity made a discovery like this, it jumped our technology forward two hundred years. But Eden Prime doesn't have the facilities to handle something like this. We need to bring the beacon back to the Citadel for proper study."

"Obviously this goes beyond mere human interests, Commander," Nihlus interjected. "This discovery could affect every species in Council space."

I wondered, briefly, why the Alliance was handing such an invaluable resource over to the Council. It wasn't just about the Alliance though. Prothean Data was all over the galaxy, and had information that held unknowable amounts of power. That, and the Alliance has been trying to gain favor with the Council. A joint mission such as this, if executed well, would put the Alliance in a more-than-favorable light.

"Then I'm glad you're here to help, Nihlus," I finally said.

"The beacon's not the only reason I'm here, Shepard," he continued.

"Nihlus wants to see you in action, Commander," Captain Anderson pointed out, "He's here to evaluate you."

The confession made me twitch a little. "That explains why I run into him every time I turn a corner."

"The Alliance has been pushing for this for a long time," Anderson explained. "Humanity wants a larger role in shaping interstellar policy. We want more say with the Citadel Council. The SPECTREs represent the Council's power and authority. If they accept a human into their ranks, it shows how far the Alliance has come."

"You've survived some of the worst the galaxy has to offer," Nihlus continued. "Your missions on Akuze, Elysium, and Torfan show you not only have an unwavering courage, but also incredible skill on the field. It's why I put your name forward as a candidate for the SPECTREs."

It took a moment for the information to stick. My skill had nothing to do with my survival on Akuze or Torfan. I could take credit for the Blitz, but my erratic biotics had done the rest. As if noticing my thoughts, my skin prickled with energy, but I forced it down, quieting my mind. If I was in the SPECTREs, it would mean a lot to the Alliance, but I didn't deserve it- not in the least.

"You support this, Captain?" I spoke softly, firmly. It was a betrayal of my real emotions, but I didn't care. I was only thinking of the List. Each name was filtering through my thoughts, their faces... Stop it, Shepard. Focus.

"Earth needs this, Commander. We're counting on it."

Nihlus spoke up again, "I need to see you skill for myself, Commander. Eden Prime will be the first of several missions together."

Anderson picked up where he left off, saying, "You'll be in charge of the ground team. Secure the beacon and get it onto the ship- ASAP. Nihlus will accompany you to observe the mission."

"Just give the word, Captain," I answered robotically.

"You'll need to suit up. We should be getting close to-"

"Captain!" Joker's voice came over the comm, urgent, worried. "We got a problem."

My stomach plummeted to my feet. This wasn't going to be good.


	9. Entry 9

[Entry 9: Eden Prime Part 2]

Joker flew us into orbit as the Communications Ensign patched us into the planetary network. Her terminal's screen went live on the Comm Room's wall, projected from the ceiling as she worked, accessing a live-feed transmission labeled HCAM212FD. A timer appeared at the bottom right of the feed.

The sound of gunfire filled the room. Flurries of shots peppered a large formation of rocks. The owner of the helmet camera scrambled to their feet, running away from the fire.

"Get Down!" A woman hollered, forcing the soldier -and the camera- into the dirt before an explosion ripped through the scene. Someone screamed in the background. The woman came back into view, a marine. She stood protectively over our transmitter, firing four quick bursts from her assault rifle. Though the scene was blurry with interference, the ferocity in her eyes was unmistakeable.

The firing continued, the camera-person's head swiveling enough to give me a headache. This was either their first firefight or they were going into shock. A soldier -probably an officer- grabbed the poor kid, focusing the camera on his face.

"We've been ambushed; taking heavy casualties! I repeat: heavy casualties!" Another explosion punctuated his words, the gunfire increasing. "We can't- argh! ... -eed evac! They came out of fucking nowhere- we need-" his body went limp as he fell forward, the camera person scuttling backwards in obvious terror.

An indescribable sound filled the room, cutting out all other noises. It was a piercing hum that crescendoed into something shrill and painful. My ears ached from it. The transmission showed the soldier looking around between the faces of their comrades, each looking past the range of vision that we were supplied. The soldier finally turned, the familiar orange glow of an omni-tool highlighting the corner of the screen as the camera zoomed into the horizon.

"What the hell?" I breathed, my eyes glued to the screen. Neither Anderson nor Nihlus answered.

A structure, the size of a small space station, descended through the low-hanging stormclouds, red-hot electricity sparking across the sky like possessed lightning. The shrill sound only grew in intensity, so loud that I could barely focus on the scattered images in front of me. The soldiers watched, dumbfounded until a string of explosives detonated at their feet. The screen fuzzed out for a moment, coming back long enough to see two soldiers get thrown back by another explosion. Someone cried out, and before we could see more, the feed went dark.

"Everything cuts out after that, Captain," the Ensign reported. "No comm traffic at all, just dead air."

"Reverse and hold around 38.5," Anderson ordered. His face was a hard, grim mask.

The clock wound back to his specifications, the image catching up a second later. It stole the breath from me, and not in the good way.

The superstructure was easily five times bigger than any dreadnaught in the Alliance Fleet, maybe even more. It hung, like the Hand of God, from the tumultuous clouds, spitting red lighting from its surface. Each finger seemed to move autonomously from the main body, expanding out as if to rip a chunk right from Eden Prime's crust. What little we could see with the grainy screenshot wasn't even the entirety of the structure, as half of it was blanketed inside the sky.

I looked to my left. Nihlus's mandibles flexed against his jaws, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Anderson's face was like a stone etching.

"Joker, Status Report," Anderson radioed.

"Seventeen minutes out, Captain. No other Alliance ships in the area."

"Take us in. Fast and quiet," he ordered. Anderson turned to Nihlus and I felt a small tugging sensation as the Normandy boosted forward. "This mission just got a whole lot more complicated."

"A small strike team can move quickly without detection," the turian advised. "It's our best chance to secure the the beacon."

Anderson looked to me next, "Grab your gear Shepard, and meet us in the cargo hold. Tell Alenko and Jenkins to suit up. You're going in."'

I had just slid the zipper to my bodysuit home when Jenkins finally showed up in the prep area. Alenko was to my right, securing his shoulder pads into place. I'd never seen someone as efficient as he was; every movement he made was quiet, swift and controlled. We hadn't really talked before other than the usual onboard pleasantries, but I knew he was popular amongst the rest of the crew.

"You're late Jenkins," I chided, securing my greaves into place. "Hurry it up."

"Sorry Commander! That damn elevator-" he huffed, ripping things out of his locker.

"No excuses," I cut him off, clamping my right shoulder pad down. "Just get ready."

Alenko was double-checking his weapon -a standard-issue Kessler pistol- helmet already on as I slipped my upper-arm padding over the left glove, smoothing out the seam and snapping it into place. The fresh red strip marking me as Squad Leader gleamed under the fluorescents. Jenkins tripped trying to put his boots on.

"Alenko-" I started, rolling my eyes. Greener than beans.

"On it," he cut in, stepping over to assist.

The pad at my right elbow was a bit warped, and as a result was always weird to clamp with my left hand. I tried pressing it home, managing to lock it loosely into place. Alenko stepped to the side while Jenkins hastily locked his grieves into place, glancing over at me. Our eyes met for a split second while I tried to hammer the elbow pad into place- probably why the damn thing was so bent out of shape.

"Let me," he offered with a small grin, stepping in. "While I'm at it."

I almost instinctively turned away, but stopped myself, offering a slightly grudging "Thank you" in reply. I needed new armor; a Commander shouldn't need help getting dressed. Alenko's hands sparked light purple with biotic energy as he wedged the clamp into place.

"It'll definitely hold now," he assured me. Of that I had no doubt, considering he was a formidably strong L2. At least, that's what his file told me.

I nodded in thanks, and started checking weapons. I'd just clipped my Stiletto into place and grabbed my helmet when Anderson and Nihlus came down the elevator.

Jenkins hurriedly equipped his weapons without checking them. I would chastise him later on that, but luckily for him it was Go Time.

"Captain," I saluted, helmet tucked under my arm.

He answered the salute and began speaking. "Your team's the muscle in this operation Commander. Go in heavy and head straight for the dig-site. Your omni-tool has the correct coordinates?"

"Yessir, as does Alenko's and Jenkin's."

"Good."

"What about survivors, Captain?" Alenko asked.

"Helping survivors is a secondary objective, Lieutenant. The beacon is our top priority."

Joker's voice came through the comm, "Approaching Drop Point One," he reported. The Normandy's hull door began to open, letting gusts of wind and rain-pregnant clouds in to blanket the hold in a layer of cold mist. Nihlus began descending the ramp.

"Nihlus, you're coming with us, right?" Jenkins blurted.

"I move faster on my own," he hollered over the wind, just before jumping off the edge. His body shrunk into a blip as the Normandy pulled out and away to the next drop.

"Nihlus will scout out ahead," Captain Anderson explained. "He'll feed you status reports throughout the mission. Otherwise, I want radio silence."

"We've got his six, Captain," I promised. The wind picked up again as Joker began descending.

"The mission's yours now Shepard. Good Luck." He stepped back, answering as my team and I saluted. I checked the strength of my low bun before pulling the helmet over my head and screwing it into place.

"Approaching Drop Point Two."

Vapor condensed on my pads, flying off as rivulets of water as I stepped to the edge of the ramp. The ground was just a short leap, and I landed easily, motioning weapons-free as Alenko and Jenkins hit the ground next to me.

The Normandy bugged, and with a last blast of wind, disappeared into the sky with barely a whisper.

"Ship Perimeter Secure, Commander," Alenko confirmed.

"Move out."

The rain started coming down in steady sheets as we moved farther in, and it was enough to suffocate the small brush fires that marked our progress. There were a few bodies, charred beyond recognition, facedown and smoldering on the path. We were on the edge of the colony, parked at the top of a plateau that overlooked a small port. Towers reached towards the sky -some finished, some in progress- smoke billowing out and climbing upwards to meet the rain.

"God what happened here?" Alenko murmured involuntarily.

"It feels like a completely different place," Jenkins answered, his eyes wide with a shocked pain. I was suddenly a twelve-year-old again, sitting behind the crates, praying for my life. I shook my head- stop it. Stop. It.

"Keep moving," I urged.

"This place was hit hard, Shepard," Nihlus radioed in, "There's a lot of bodies. "

We continued down a mountain path towards the dig site. I spotted a clearing- my fist went up in caution. Jenkins and Alenko grouped up behind me, weapons poised. I checked the clearing, a path that overlooked the burning port and surrounding farmland below. It lead up a slope into a copse of tall, thick, viney trees. I threw up a silent all-clear and motioned for us to move out.

Jenkins rushed forward at the signal, and before I could react was in cover across the clearing.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I nearly-spat over the helmet-to-helmet radio, edging forward into the nearest cover behind him. It was too far, I didn't like it.

"Sorry Commander," he said sincerely, "but this is my home."

He was laid flat before I could reach him.

Jenkins sprinted forward, when two airborne hostiles flew out from the copse of trees. He reinforced his shields too late, sustaining a chest injury before trying to fire on the two bogies. His gun didn't respond when he pulled the trigger, and a hail of slugs filled his body as the Lieutenant and I suppressed fire. From behind cover, I watched his body slump to his knees, falling forward into the ground.

"Flank on the left," I ordered Alenko, peeking out of cover to fire three shots with my Stiletto into the drone-like object, causing it to explode. It wasn't a model I was familiar with, but I'd dealt with my fair share of mechanised defense turrets. They all eventually went down. The Lieutenant reinforced his barrier in cover, then gathered enough energy to Warp the remaining drone. It hit the ground and exploded on impact. After confirming an all-clear, we rushed to Jenkins's side.

"Ripped right through his shields," Alenko determined, his fingers tracing the edges of the Private's wounds. He looked up, and our eyes locked, "He never stood a chance."

Every What if? was running through my mind. What if I'd pulled him back? What if I'd shouted at the kid sooner?

I should have checked his gear myself.

I should have saved him.

I should have used...

No.

That part of my life was uncontrollable. I would've ending up killing him myself. Like McIvor and the rest of the strike team. The names began rolling through my head, starting with Jonathan, ending with Jenkins. Each face flashed rapidly before my eyes. You killed him. They screamed at me. You could have saved him but you didn't. Shameful. How can you lead? How can you call yourself an Alliance Soldier? How can you call yourself the best? You're a disgrace. Burn in Hell.

"Commander," the Lieutenant said. "Commander. Commander Shepard."

I inhaled sharply, his voice pulling my focus away from my thoughts.

"He deserves a proper burial," I murmured, my fingers gently closing Jenkins's eyes. Greener than beans. I snapped his tags off from around his neck, and had Alenko lay him to the side, tucking the metal plates into the supply pouch on my belt.

"Are you... alright, Commander?" He asked hesitantly, as we began to move again.

"Weapons free, on my seven," I ordered. "Keep those eyes on the tree line." Do. Not. Get. Attached.

We cleared the treeline, taking out three more drones. They each fell to the ground and exploded on impact.

"Even though we shoot to disable, they keep exploding," Alenko remarked. "They must be triggering some kind of self-destruction when they hit the ground."

"I've never seen drone-type turrets like these," I agreed. We worked our way through a small brush forest, using the thick, flat trunks of the trees as cover. The rain trickled through the canopy, racing down the face of our armor. Jenkin's eyes met mine when I closed them for a minute.

"Keep moving," I ordered, more to myself than to Alenko.

We cleared the treeline on the other side, immediately greeted by the sound of heavy gunfire. I reflexively shoved Alenko into the cover of a tree, eliciting a grunt of surprise. Putting the Stiletto away, I reached back and grabbed the Equalizer- my Sniper Rifle.

Through the scope, I saw a soldier running, fire pelting the ground behind her as she stormed up the hill. To the right was a natural outcropping, which she dove into, whipping out the assault rifle on her back. She fired a burst of shots into two drones, sinking down and out of sight of two foot soldiers that came over the rise.

"What the hell are those things?" I breathed. Kaiden peered over my shoulder, from cover, trying to see what I was.

There were two of them: tall, slender bipeds with three finger-like appendages and -for lack of a better descriptor- lamps for faces. Each gripped a kind of weapon I'd never seen, and each made a series of strange, inhuman noises. Were they communicating?

"I recognize that marine," I realized out loud, "She's from the transmission."

The strange hostiles crept up on her position, but before they got too close, I fired two quick shots. One hit the alien closest to her, square in the neck. The other I hit in the shoulder, arm falling to its side, gun dropping to the ground. Before I could regroup, the soldier peeked out of cover and emptied bullets into her assailant until she dropped her assault rifle from the heat. She quickly pulled out her pistol and with a glance in our direction, moved forward, back down the rise.

"Let's go," I ordered. We followed her down the hill finding natural outcroppings to dodge behind. When she stopped moving a few feet ahead, I looked beyond her to see what she saw.

Two more of those lamp-faced aliens were holding a man in farming clothes over some sort of contraption. He struggled weakly as one prepped something to the side of the object. Without warning, a retracted spike unfurled towards the sky, skewering the man through the torso. A small noise escaped both me and the Lieutenant at the sight. Blood rained down on the two hostiles as they turned and walked further down the rise into the cover of a cement-like structure.

The woman advanced.

I pulled out my Stiletto again, motioning the Lieutenant to the left flank. He nodded, boosting his barriers again and sticking to cover. I was close enough to call out to her at the bottom of the hill, but six of the strange creatures were patrolling around the cement structure. I made eye contact with her briefly. Sharp, brown eyes looked to me for confirmation, angry, but determined to stay alive. I looked to Alenko; he was ready. I nodded.

We all stepped out of cover together, opening fire on the creatures in sight. It took eight shots to different kill-zones to take one down. I yanked a grenade off my belt, primed it and tossed it around the corner, detonating it a second later. Inhuman shrieks and shrill whistles filled the air, letting me know I'd done the job. The Lieutenant pulled two straight out of the air, throwing them against one of the walls of the cement structure before filling their chests with disruptive slugs. The woman shot the last one in the leg as it ducked out of her line of fire, before she leapt over her cover, and stormed into the structure. There was a small scuffle, a shot, then silence.

Alenko regrouped on my left, gun raised in expectation.

"All-Clear!" The unknown soldier hollered from inside. She poked her head out, then met us in the middle, just outside the confines of the structure. With a heavy sigh of relief, she leaned back against the concrete, her eyes fluttering shut. After collecting herself for a moment, she pushed off, her eyes sparkling with triumph.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212," she reported, snapping to attention with a sharp salute, "You must be backup."


	10. Entry 10

[Entry 10: Eden Prime Part 3]

"Are you wounded?" I asked, noting the large scuff marks and since-dried dirt crusted into her pads.

"A few scrapes and burns," she exhaled slowly, "Nothing serious." She paused, pain flickering briefly across her face. "The others weren't so... lucky." When her eyes travelled up to mine again, her grief poured through me, bringing a wave of my own painful memories to the surface.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice coming out surprisingly gentle.

"Oh man..." She slumped against the cement pillar again, head cradled in her hands. "We were patrolling the perimeter..." her words tumbled out, cracking with grief and stress, "just everyday routine stuff when... God, they came out of nowhere." Her breathing ramped up as she pieced together her last few hours for us, trying -without much success- to keep as calm as possible, "We tried to get off a distress call, but they cut off our communications somehow. We- I- I- I- mean I've... been fighting for my life ever since."

"What happened to the rest of your squad?"

Her face broke down as she said, "We tried to double-back... to the beacon, but we walked right into an ambush. I don't think any of the others..." her eyes squeezed shut. She's a fighter, I thought to myself. Even though she was clearly shaken, not a single tear was visible. As if reading my thoughts, the gunnery chief took a deep, steadying breath, and stood up straight once more. "I think I'm the only one left." Anger and guilt set in her face, and I knew immediately what she was holding back.

"You've done well," I assured her. Against my better judgment, my hand moved to grip her shoulder comfortingly, albeit awkwardly. "None of this is your fault. Don't blame yourself for what these things did."

She closed her eyes briefly and nodded, accepting the gesture. "We held our position as long as we could... but they overwhelmed us."

"Can you tell me what they are?" I asked.

"We think they were Geth," she answered.

"That's crazy," LT. Alenko blurted, "the Geth haven't been seen outside the Veil in nearly 200 years. What would possess them to come here? Why now?"

Williams and I made eye contact before we answered in tandem, "the Beacon."

Her hand patted the cement pillar, "This is where they dug it up, but I don't think it's here. At least, I didn't see it."

"We'd better move out. Nihlus should be reporting soon," I said. "Williams, I'd like you to join us. We could use someone like you."

"With pleasure, ma'am" she nodded, eyes glinting. "It's time for payback."

We walked in between the cement pillars, and I noted the lack of any kind of ceiling or roof. The structure itself seemed more like an altar than anything, a wide cement circle with a concentric platform in the middle. The cement pillar where we'd walked in was one of many, placed at specific locations in a ring around the structure. Vines, rubble, and dirt littered the space, betraying the structure's age. At the far side of the circle was an alcove in the side of a hill, tall and rectangular. Steps led up to the alcove, and a pile of metallic trash was decomposing to the side.

"This is where the Beacon was," Williams pointed, "in that little cut-out. I remember moving the broken terminal to the side so the scientists could get a better look at it. Someone moved it."

"Who?" Alenko speculated, voicing my thoughts, "Our side? Or the Geth?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "Maybe if we check the research camp up the hill, we'll find out more."

"Do you think anyone could've survived?" I asked, Anderson's voice ringing in my ear. I didn't listen; the lives of innocents always came first. Nothing would change that. Alenko looked over at me, his eyes appraising me.

"Maybe," Williams shrugged, "if they hid well."

"Let's go."

"There's ramps in the side of the hill," Williams pointed, "that way."

Nihlus's voice filled my ears,"Reporting in, there's a small spaceport up ahead. I'm going to check it out and we'll regroup there."

She took point, leading us out of the dig site and up the hill that plateaued and led to another forested dirt path. To the left was a building project of some kind, maybe a highway, maybe a monorail. It was bombed out, small fires fueled by errant rubble. The rain had slacked considerably, mingling with ash and smoke as it kissed the scorched ground. Mud caked my boots and greaves as we reached the top of the ramps. The scene worsened from there.

One building was completely collapsed, and burning, the acrid stench filling my nose and throat. I almost wanted to activate my rebreather. Two buildings across a small clearing filled with scrap metal and ruin were banged up pretty bad, but otherwise intact. To the left of the clearing, alongside another ruined shelter, were three more spike-contraptions, each hoisting its own impaled victim aloft.

"Damn..." Alenko murmured to my left.

"They hit this place hard," Williams agreed, lowering her assault rifle.

"It's still a good place for an ambush," I warned, "keep your guard up." Something didn't feel right. The air was thick with some kind of sick energy. My gut quivered slightly in acknowledgement. We walked further in, weapons raised.

The spiked contraptions whirred and shifted, suddenly retracting their deadly spears. My senses kicked into high gear.

"Oh God!" Alenko exclaimed, turning suddenly, finger poised on his trigger, "Are they still alive?!"

A wave of electricity pulsed through the ground, sending sparks flying from under the backs of the victims. It filled their limp bodies, illuminating them from the inside out. Each opened their eyes in turn, glowing soullessly. Their skin had grayed and dehydrated, leaving nothing but bones. Pure energy pooled from their mouths as they screamed at the coming of their unholy rebirth. The clothes and hair they once had were set aflame at their quickening, burning without paining them.

"What... what did the Geth do to them?" Williams murmured with a healthy mixture of confusion, disgusted awe, and mild terror.

"Don't let them touch you," I barked, "The energy they're emitting is more than enough to stop your heart."

My senses took over, and the part of me that I had suppressed for so long came out of the shadows. No. It bloomed in my core and flooded my system, mingling with the adrenaline. My skin itched under my armor as I fired into one of the three undead, aiming for the head and missing as it ducked into a loping run. Arms extended, the three corpses each chose a different target and charged. I crouched under the one that chose me, equipping disruptive rounds. It continued running forward until a piece of the camp's strewn wreckage tripped it up.

"They're completely mindless!" I shouted.

Facedown, the corpse's body started sparking uncontrollably. I felt electricity fly through the air, my own biotic energy rising defensively. It all condensed inwards, jumping erratically from the husk's body. The feeling was all too familiar: The thing was going Supernova. Before I could warn the others, the energy exploded outwards crawling over every surface. My biotics rose to meet the onslaught, deflecting the majority of the rampant electricity with a barrier-wall. It spiderwebbed across the breadth of the barrier dissipating into the wet air.

"Shepard, look out!" Someone shouted from behind me. I fell forward as a different corpse leapt on my back, nearly shoving me into the dirt. I let instinct take over, using my biotics to grab my assailant and send it flying into the burning ruins of a cabin. Within the flames, the husk screeched indignantly, trying to pick its way out with no legs and one arm. I fired two shots into its brain, and a few into the other's for good measure. When I turned around, both Alenko and Williams looked on in amazement.

"Commander, you-" Kaiden started. I held up my hand and he silenced. I forcefully wrangled my biotic energy back into its tight coil, feeling it pull back into the confines of my center like an ebbing tide. The sensitive hairs at the back of my neck relaxed slightly.

"Search the camp for others," I ordered. He looked like he wanted to say something, but I gave him a terse glare, stopping the notion. I knew from his slight nod and responding gaze that once the mission was complete he was going to ask me, but until then he would hold his peace. It was enough, for the moment.

While both Alenko and Williams turned away, I felt my chest tighten unbearably. I grabbed at the collar of my chest plate, trying to alleviate the sudden, sharp pang. I cleared my throat, and breathed deeply until the pain subsided. Dread settled into my gut and stayed.

"Commander, over here!" Williams called. She was standing in front of one of the intact buildings, gesturing to its command console. "Door's locked, and the security system is engaged."

I jogged over to the buildings, and ran my hands along the slatted metal windows. Whoever was inside was being very quiet.

"Alenko, you're good with mechanics, yes?" I turned. He nodded slightly, guarded curiosity still in his eyes. "Bypass the lock. Weapons at the ready."

It took him mere seconds to open the flimsy door. I leapt inside, gun poised.

"Don't shoot, we're human!" a woman shrieked.

There were two of them, man and woman. Both appeared to be scientists from the branded tunics they each wore with neon orange bands around their right arms. The one who'd screamed, the woman, stood a solid head shorter than my 5' 8" frame, her skin -as well as that of her male companion's- pale and waxy with stress and fear. The shack reeked of their combined sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood. The man, shaking and hunched under the arm of his peer, peeked up to meet my gaze, his eyes clouded with terror and... something else.

"Thank the Maker," the woman spoke first, exhaling heavily. The hand she'd raised to protect herself and her fellow scientist went to grip the man by the shoulders and steady him against her. He clung to her middle like a child, burying his face in her stomach.

"Close the door," he hissed, "before they come back."

"If they do, we'll protect you," I promised him, modulating my tone so as not to frighten him further. This man was clearly not well. I looked to the woman, "Commander Shepard, Alliance."

"Is it just us then?" the woman asked. Her face showed a mix of strained emotions, "It looks like everyone else is... gone."

"You're Dr. Warren," Chief Williams blurted from the doorway. Kaiden stood just outside, pistol poised. "You're the head researcher from the dig site." When the Dr. tilted her head in slight confusion Ashley continued, "I'm one of the soldiers who helped move rubble... from the 212. My name is Ashley Williams."

Recognition bloomed in the Dr.'s eyes, "Ah, I remember. I'm sorry, so much has happened since then."

"I understand," the Chief answered sympathetically. "Can you at least tell us what happened to the beacon?"

"It was moved," Dr. Warren explained, "This morning. The crew took it to the spaceport to be taken offworld. Beyond that, I don't know. My associate here, Manuel -and you'll have to excuse him- w-we stayed behind, to pack up camp."

"What happened during the attack?" I asked gently, my eyes still watching the man cowering into Dr. Warren's arms. Every so often he would shudder, his eyes focusing wildly when they flickered open. I wanted to know what he was seeing.

"They came out of nowhere... the synthetics," she shivered, her eyes squeezing shut. "The marines held them off long enough for us to hide. They... they gave their lives to save us."

"No one is saved," Manuel suddenly wailed, pushing away from the Dr.. His eyes bored into mine, madness tipping into his voice as he whispered, "The age of humanity has ended, soon only ruin and corpses will remain." His fingers reached up into his hair as he sunk to the floor of the shack, rocking slightly. Williams gave me a wary glance. Alenko didn't look up from his sweep, but tilted his head slightly, letting me know he was listening.

"Is he-" I started, but the man continued.

"Agents of the Destroyers," he rambled, clutching his skull "Bringers of Darkness, Heralds of Our Extinction. The Prophet, Leader of the Enemy... he was here before the attack, I saw him, I saw him I did. We have unearthed the Heart of Evil, awakened the beast, unleashed the Darkness. I can see the future, the destruction rushing towards us. There is no escape, no hope. No, I'm not crazy, no no no, I'm the only sane one left!" He trailed off into bitter mumblings systematically ripping hairs from his scalp.

"Manuel, please," the doctor implored, trying to take his hands in hers. He slapped her away, only to hug himself tightly and continue prattling. "I'm sorry," she looked up at us sadly, "Manuel has been having these... episodes for days. Genius and madness are often two sides of the same coin. The attack hasn't helped. He has such a brilliant mind too, it's a shame."

"Would sedating him help at all?" I asked, watching him rock. His words unsettled me, and I held onto them. Despite his madness, Manuel's fear was real. Even if it wasn't the coming apocalypse, the man had seen something very real, and very dangerous.

"I gave him an extra dose of his meds, they should kick in soon, but moving him right now would not be wise."

"I understand," I nodded. Moving forward with them would slow us down anyway. "Can you tell us anything else? Anything about the beacon?"

"The beacon is remarkable," Warren suddenly smiled. Academic curiosity burned in her eyes, "It's a type of data module; impeccably preserved. We think it linked to a bigger system, maybe even a galaxy-wide network. It could be the greatest scientific discovery of our lifetime, and we don't even know what kind of information it holds! Medical advances, Weapons schematics, who knows what secrets are locked inside?" Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. The covert pick up and overall hush-hush nature of the shakedown was finally explained in full. Whatever was in that beacon was important enough for a colony to get destroyed. We needed to hurry.

"I want you two to hunker down," I told her, injecting a businesslike authority into my voice, "keep the window slats closed and the lock engaged. Do not move, do not breathe, do not even whisper until an all-clear is given and you are found by Alliance operatives. I will tell them to knock three times to let you know it's safe. Are we clear?"

"Yes ma'am," she nodded. "Thank you, Commander."

"Just doing my job," I nodded, gesturing for Williams to head out. Before I closed the door to the shack I leaned back in, "Dr. have you seen a turian walk through here? Red armor and white tribal marks on his face?"

"Twisted, dark creature," Manuel whimpered, "the Prophet spreads black death wherever he walks. Sa-"

"Manuel, I think you should lie down," The Dr. interrupted. She turned to me, fatigue pulling at her mouth and eyes, "No I haven't seen your turian."

I looked once more at Manuel, whose eyes roamed the ceiling of the shack, but saw far beyond its confines, and nodded, thanking her. The door clicked behind me and soon locked as Dr. Warren moved inside.

"Double time to the Spaceport," I ordered.

We'd just reached the rise before a shot rang out.

My blood ran cold.

Nihlus.


	11. Entry 11

[Entry 11: Eden Prime Part 4]

From the top of the rise, the entire spaceport complex was visible. We were coming in from the south. A security checkpoint was down the hill to the right and the trams to the docks as well as an impressive skyscraper were beyond the main cargo drop. Down the hill to the left was a road leading into the valley, probably towards the main colony hub, or maybe some fields. The hillside was littered in construction rubble and small grass fires. A car was flipped upside down, and more spikes held unlucky colonists aloft. Two more of the Geth patrolled the perimeter of the cargo port, walking mechanically from side to side. The clouds were thick and roiling, even though the rain had stopped almost altogether. No sky was visible, but an unsettling red hue bathed Eden Prime's horizon. I wondered where that ship had gone, the one from the transmission.

"Do you think you can take one of them out?" I asked Williams, watching the two synthetics through the scope of my Equalizer.

"I'm not fantastic with a Sniper Rifle," she murmured, peering through her own scope, "but say the word and I'll get the job done."

"Take the closer of two then," I directed, "Fire on my mark." I lined up my shot and ordered her released. We pulled the trigger at the same time, my shot cutting neatly through my target's head, hers puncturing the other in the chest. She fired a follow-up shot into her mark's neck, and it fell next to its partner before both short circuited and finally, combusted. I pulled out the Stiletto as we veered right down the hill, towards the security checkpoint.

"Weren't there some of those spike things around here?" the Chief commented. I paused, head cocked to the side, just before they leapt out from above.

"Fuck!" Alenko yelped, throwing his arm up to shield himself. His biotics lashed out, sending the closer of the two husks flying across the clearing where it hit a wall of jagged rock that lined the hillside. Before it fell, the husk released a deadly explosion of electricity, tiny bolts jumping and scattering before disappearing into the ground. The other was suspended in midair for a moment before it exploded. It fell between us in halves, its mouth lolling open. If I had a more sardonic sense of humor, I might've found it amusing.

I looked up to the Lieutenant and watched as he caught his breath, settling the energy that ran rampant across his skin. He met my gaze briefly, sheepishly. I just quirked my brow, wondering silently if he was alright. At the same time, it was nice to know I wasn't the only one who lashed out instinctively.

"I really don't like surprises," he murmured almost inaudibly, looking down to fix a better grip on his pistol. Sweat pooled at his upper lip betraying the physical strain his biotics had taken on him. I could tell he'd wasted more energy than he'd wanted to.

"Damn. I'll keep that in mind when I'm in charge of planning your birthday party," Chief Williams suddenly said. I snorted involuntarily, pulling a brief smile from Alenko who shook his head slightly.

"Let's keep moving," I gestured, turning to go. I stopped again, turning my head slightly to add, "Lt. ...take my weak side."

"Aye aye," he nodded, the smile audible in his voice.

We came up to the security checkpoint, a small, portable unit not unlike the one we found Dr. Warren in. This one had an air of permanence however, the native ivy crawling up the side of the building letting us know it'd been there awhile.

"Lock's engaged on this one too, Commander," Williams reported.

"Leave it," I shook my head, remembering the shot we heard at the camp. "We need to find Nihlus. He's supposed to rendezvous with us here but I don't see him."

"He is a SPECTRE," Alenko commented, "If anyone can take care of themselves it's him." I figured he was trying to reassure me, but I couldn't help but feel like the Lieutenant was undermining my gut feeling and it didn't savor too well.

"Someone important?" Chief Williams asked.

"Mission scout," I replied shortly, still bristling at the Lieutenant's comment, "the Council sent him with us on the Normandy." She seemed content to leave it at that.

Just as we passed the unit, I heard the tri-tone beep of the security lock deactivating. All three of us whirled around, weapons raised.

"We're human! We're human!" A husky tenor shouted, ducking back inside the shed. A tentative pink-fleshed, five-fingered hand peeked out in the open, waving.

"At ease," I breathed, my heart moving from my throat back into my chest. I thought of Alenko's distaste for surprises; he wasn't alone in that sentiment. "You can come out," I called, holstering the Stiletto. Alenko turned to keep an eye on our six, while Williams kept her weapon trained forward, despite my people exited the shed, hands raised, eyes wary: two men, one of my height with a bulky build and ruddy skin, the other dark, tall, and thin. Both were wearing a dock worker's uniform.

The first my eyes with a measured gaze, saying, "We're unarmed, don't shoot."

"Is it safe? Are they gone?" A woman cried -the third of the trio- before I could respond, grasping the first man's shoulders. Her eyes peeked at me from behind the man, bewildered. She was shorter than me, probably younger too. Coveralls three sizes too big dwarfed her frame, the heavy work gloves tucked into her belt a dead giveaway to her Farmer's occupation. Innocents. These people wouldn't know about the Geth or the beacon, they were just victims. To them, this attack was random, unfounded. They would probably never know the truth. I sighed. Nihlus was going to have to wait.

"Everything's alright," I assured them, looking directly towards the young woman. "The area is secure, for now."

"Those... things, were sniffing around the shed," the man said, glancing behind him before brushing the Farmer off, "it's a good thing you came when you did or they would've found us for sure."

"I- I still can't believe it," the young woman continued, visibly shuddering as she hugged herself at the elbows. "When we saw that ship, I thought it was all over..."

"Ship?" I asked, my eyebrow lifting involuntarily. I thought back to the machine from the transmission, the claw-like appendages reaching towards Eden Prime's surface. Where they talking about that Behemoth? My brow creased.

"It showed up right before the attack," the dock worker said. "Knew it was trouble, what with that crazy red lightning and all, so I booked it towards the shed with these two on my tail." He jabbed his thumb behind him. The man behind the dock worker was silent, watching the Chief's grip on her Lancer Assault Rifle with a wide-eyed expression.

"What can you tell us?" I inquired, "Every detail."

"I-I was... working the cargo bay- as usual- with Blake," he started, looking back at his companion, "she...was walkin' around the spaceport-"

"My Uncle was checking our exports- we're orchard farmers," she interjected. A scene from my childhood flicked past as I blinked. Flower crowns and sunshine; a handshake. I twitched involuntarily, shoving the image farther back into the reaches of my mind, teeth clenched.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, that ship comes down through the clouds, I take one look at it and run. Next thing I know I'm in this shed with these two, security's gone, and there's this... noise. This fuckin'... shriek of the damned or some shit. Worst part is that it wasn't coming from anywhere, it was all in my head. I wanted to bash in my skull it was so bad."

I took a minute to think, "It was probably... a jamming signal of some kind," I mused out loud, looking to the Lieutenant. His eyes were trained on the cargo bay in front of us, but his shoulders lifted, signalling that he'd heard me.

"Well, whatever it was, it was horrible."

"Do you know anything about the artifact the archaeologists found?" I asked.

"I knew they found something old, something important," he shrugged, "but I don't get paid enough to care about the specifics."

"Lovely," Williams muttered from next to me.

"What about a turian?" I pressed, "Black armor, white markings on his face, green eyes, you can't've missed him."

"Uh-uh, we closed all the shutters to the shed. Hid behind some lockers and made ourselves quiet. If anybody came through... we were too scared to look."

I closed my eyes briefly. Dread had made a home inside my gut and sat like a lead weight.

"Thanks for the info. If I were you three, I would go back inside and wait until backup from the Alliance showed up."

"Hey -Cole- we're just dock workers," the other man, Blake, spoke up just as I turned to tap Alenko on the shoulder while signalling to Williams. "They're soldiers, maybe... we should give them the- "

"Geez Blake you gotta learn when to shut up."

I turned slowly, hand automatically resting on my pistol. When I met Cole's eyes, I was frowning. I knew the effect I had on people when I looked at them sideways with my scar in full view. The piece of metal that'd gotten lodged in my helmeted face had done a number on my left side, and I'd never been looked at the same way again. The way Cole looked at me now, I knew my minor scare tactics had done their job.

"If there's something you're not telling me..." I calmly warned, my voice layered with steel.

Cole raised his hands defensively, "Look, some of the guys were running a little smuggling operation- nuthin' big. We had a deal: they store their stuff, we get a cut of the profit."

"What kind of stuff are we talking about here?" Williams interjected, stepping towards them. Her grip audibly tightened around the Lancer's trigger.

"I found a pistol," he said, wringing his hands. "Figured it would come in handy if those things came back. You'll probably need it more than we will though." He pulled the pistol from his waistband at the back, and presented it. Williams took it and inspected it briefly before handing it to me. His eyes flitted around my gaze, holding it for half a second before darting to the ground. There was more, but he wasn't sharing.

"You're wasting my time," I growled, gripping the new gun. "I'm asking once and once only, and just think -long and hard- before you try and lie to me again: are you sure all you found is this one crappy pistol?"

"Uh..." he tried, his face contorting, "No, wait... I have this little thing too, I just have it in my pocket here..." he dropped a chip into my hand, quickly backing up. "That's it, I swear," he promised. I looked at it closely (a weapons mod of some kind?) before unbuckling the small pouch at my hip with some other miscellaneous things I never remembered to clean out, and tucked it inside.

"Who's your contact at the spaceport?" Williams asked.

"He's not a bad guy," Cole evaded, "I don't want any trouble, really. It's not even worth it. Besides, I'm not a snitch."

Would you rather be a snitch or a corpse? I thought angrily, my frustration stirring up the already tumultuous energy beneath my skin. I nearly threw my hands in the air, exclaiming, "Just fucking tell me," barely holding back, before I beat the shit out of you. People who wasted my time shortened my hard-earned patience by miles and I was having trouble finding any to deal with this ass. Williams cocked her Lancer, deep irritation burning in her eyes. I almost didn't want to stop her.

Cole got the message, quickly saying, "Powell, his name's Powell."

"No honor among thieves anyways, right?" she smiled darkly. There was something deeply disturbing about her that I needed more time to figure out. Her temper was fiery, to say the least.

"Please don't shoot me," he whimpered. "That's really everything."

"Get back into the shed, and don't ever try and pull this shit again." I turned, thrust the pistol towards Alenko, and stalked up to the cargo port, my helmet suddenly feeling too tight for my head. Smugglers were trash, not even worth boiling my blood over, and yet, my temple still throbbed with irritation. The thing about trash is that it's unavoidable. You can choose to pick it up and deal with it, or leave it to rot on the ground, but it'll always be there.

I climbed the ramp up to the main loading area, Alenko on my eight, Williams on my four. My eyes scanned the area, searching for Nihlus through the haze of small fires and sea of metal crates. I found him almost immediately, face down on the ground.

"Fuck," I let slip, my jaw clenching. I pulled the Stiletto out. "Guards up."

I knelt at his side, using the rounded shape of his armor to my advantage as I rolled him over. Alenko stood in front of me to cover.

"Straight through the head," I observed, scanning the wound with my omni-tool. "Close-range, maybe not even a meter... went right through his skull... this was an assassination. Damn it! I knew that sound from behind the ridge was something to be worried about." I reached under his neck guard and searching for something like the turian-version of dog tags from around his neck. I found them, and tucked them into the same pouch that held Jenkins's. Standing, I recorded the position of his corpse into my omni-tool so that reinforcements could pick him up.

"What do we do now, Commander?" Alenko asked, meeting my gaze. His eyes were steady, but I couldn't read whatever emotions they were conveying. Concern? Determination? I didn't bother guessing.

"We complete the mission," I stated simply, "Find the beacon, call the Normandy, report to Anderson. The parameters haven't changed. It's just a little... trickier now."

"Aye, aye," he nodded. Something rustled suddenly behind him and I shoved him protectively to the side with my left arm, whipping out the Stiletto. Ashley moved in beside me, Lancer trained on the group of crates where the sound had come from. Alenko's body thrummed with biotic energy as he pulled out his own pistol, but it was silent.

"Out the open. Now." I ordered. I saw the hands first; a human. The rest of the man followed slowly.

His whole body shaking, the skinny, pallid, rat-faced man in front of me cried, "Don't shoot me I-I-I-I'm a human, I promise you!" I suddenly felt slightly ill, as if I'd done a rollercoaster simulator one too many times.

"We could have shot you dead," I chastised. "Speak before moving next time or you might not be so lucky."

"Sorry, I-I'm sorry, I was scared. My name's Powell, I'm just a dock worker. I swear. I saw what happened to that Turian," he gestured towards Nihlus's body, "the other one shot him."

"Powell, the Smuggler, Powell?" Williams blurted.

"The other Turian?" Alenko followed.

"Y-yeah," Powell nodded, slightly bewildered, "the other one got here first... he was waiting... when that one showed up. Your friend... seemed to know him... called him -what was it?- Salmon? S-S-Saren? Yeah, Saren, it was definitely Saren. Anyways, he relaxed... you know, let his guard down a bit, then Saren shot 'im right in the back of the head. I'm lucky the guy didn't see me behind the crates, or that would've been the end for me."

I didn't answer for a while, mulling things over in my head. If another Turian was here and he killed Nihlus, there was a conflict of interest somewhere. Where did the Geth fall in this? What about the beacon? If Saren killed Nihlus, it was probably because of that, but why? Did the Geth or the Turian have anything to do with the giant ship? If so, where was it?

"The beacon that they found was supposed to be here," I finally said, "Where is it?"

"It's over on the other platform, the main docking area. Probably where that Saren-guy was headed. He went down the stairs and hopped on a cargo train right after he killed your friend." He shook his head, leaning over the crates. "I knew that thing was trouble the moment I saw it. Everything's gone to hell in a hand-basket since we found it. First that damn mothership showed up, then the attack... they killed everyone, everyone. If I hadn't been behind the crates, I'd be dead too!" He was working himself into a frenzy, sweat beginning to bead at his brow. His hands white-knuckled the crate in front of him, his whole body convulsing with a shudder.

"Alright, alright, you're safe," I tried, trying not to let annoyance seep into my voice. First Cole now this, I was tired of dealing with it, but they were scared. I couldn't exactly blame them. Scared people did stupid shit. After a few seconds Powell settled, wrapping his arms around his body.

"Commander, this is the guy Cole was talking about," Williams roughly reminded me. I exhaled, squeezing my eyes shut. "The Smuggler?"

"I got that Williams," I nearly barked, barely managing to temper myself.

"W-What? N-No!" Powell stammered, fear creeping back into his eyes. Great. "I mean," he floundered, "w-what does it matter now, huh? So what? Who cares? My supervisor's dead. The entire crew's dead. Even the fucking marines are dead. It's doesn't matter now, does it?"

"If you have something useful," I shook my head, "maybe."

"Eh, yeah there was a shipment of grenades that came through last week. Nobody notices if a few small pieces go missing here and there, especially from the military orders."

"You greedy son of a bitch," Williams snarled. "We're out here trying to protect your sorry ass and all you can think about is how you can rip us off?!" She leaned in, and probably would've pounced on the guy if I hadn't laid a firm grip on her shoulder. She was radiating anger, the memory of her dead squadmates fresh in her mind. I knew the feeling well.

"I mean, I didn't think you'd actually need those things," Powell tried to reason, backing up a few feet, "Who the hell would want to attack Eden Prime anyway? We're just a bunch of Farmers for Christ's sake! How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"Just, hand them over," I forced out, letting the Chief snatch them out of his hands when he hurriedly offered them.

"My smuggling days are officially over," he said hurriedly. Not likely, I thought.

"There's too much to profit in it, especially now that everyone who's a threat to your operation is now dead," Alenko interjected, surprising me. He'd been silent the whole time, gun trained on Powell. "I was thinking," he continued, "how could you have survived the attack when everyone else died? You're a very lucky man, Powell." His face was stone hard, the cool demeanor he'd affected all the while wiped clean. The skin of his jaw prickled with an almost lilac energy; he was furious. So even one of the calmest men I'd ever met had a tipping point.

"L-look I've got something else..." he sighed, scratching his head aggressively. "Could be worth a small fortune -maybe not- I don't really know. It's an experimental technology, apparently it's top-of-the-line. Take it. It's yours. I don't even need it... I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, really." He placed it on the crate and pushed it to the edge closest to us, hands raised defensively. Williams grabbed it and handed it to me. Without looking, I tucked it into the pouch with the other mod. I was beyond caring at this point.

"How did you survive?" Williams asked. The set in her shoulders told me she was looking for a fight.

"I..." Powell looked like he was about to soil himself. He sighed heavily, the rest of his words rapidly tumbling out of him, "Sometimes after a night out with the guys I need a nap to make it through my shift, so... I sneak off behind these crates to catch a few Z's before heading back to work. It really was just luck. All of it."

"You bastard-" she lunged. I grabbed her around the waist, and -with a bit of a struggle- pulled her back, putting myself between her and Powell.

"Get out of here," I ordered him, forcing all of my steel into each word. He wasted no time running in the direction we had come, Alenko's dark glare propelling him faster up the hill.

"Pull yourself together!" I barked, releasing the Gunnery Chief. She stumbled forward, but caught herself, whipped around and snapped into a salute. Her face was a smooth mask but her eyes glittered with unrestrained rage. "Now is not the time to let your personal feelings get in the way. The beacon comes first. If you want to take your anger out on something, take it out on the Geth, but right now we have to move. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am!" She didn't meet my eyes, but remained silent.

"Let's get to the cargo train."

Two Geth met us on the way down the stairs. Alenko threw one off the side and onto one of two pairs of tracks where it jolted wildly before self-destructing, while Williams unloaded slugs into the other until her Lancer needed venting. I glared at her sternly before we moved on, feeling my facial scar pucker. She looked away, emotionless.

Just as we found our way onto the back of the train, the ground began to rumble.

"Earthquake?" I shouted, my knees weakening as it grew stronger, drowning out everything else.

"Commander up ahead!" Alenko pointed. I turned, and what I saw knocked the wind right out of my sails.

What I had thought was just a towering building was, in fact, the Behemoth of a ship that I had seen during the transmission. It emitted a horrible screeching noise as it ascended into the stormy clouds, filling my ears and head until black dots swirled in and out of my line-of-sight.

"Look at the size of that thing!" Williams hollered. I could barely hear her, and she was inches away from me.

The sound crescendoed as the ship gained momentum, rocketing out of the atmosphere and away from the planet. Only when it had pierced the atmosphere did the sound fade. My senses came back slowly, and I blinked several times, trying to see even three feet in front of me. The ground was still shaking as I looked to my companions. Alenko was to my left, sitting behind one of the section barriers, hands cradling his head. Williams was kneeling on one knee behind another on my right, gripping the metal barrier for support. I looked ahead, eyes still focusing, just in time to see the brightly-lit lamp-face of a massive Geth barreling towards me.


	12. Entry 12: Eden Prime Final

[Entry 12: Eden Prime Final Part]

Something cracked when the giant synthetic's shoulder rammed into my torso. I felt my breath catch as its solid armor connected with the small gap between my breast plate and my utility belt, reaching the softer bodysuit underneath. I was weightless for what seemed like forever, falling backwards in slow motion towards an unknown end. My body reacted in the only way it knew how, the biotic energy bursting from my center to wrap itself protectively around me.

I landed hard on the tracks, feeling the barrier buckle slightly as I made contact with the ground. It held as I rolled over, consciously making an effort to reign the loose energy back in. I heard Alenko shout, and looking up, saw him drop his pistol, his own biotic energy flaring with violet brilliance. The giant Geth pummeled Alenko's barrier as Williams struggled into view, adjusting something on her weapon before retraining it on the synthetic. I pulled out the Equalizer, trading my usual chemical mod for disruptive ammo. My legs quivered as I planted my right foot into the gravel between the tracks, the shock from my fall coupled with a sudden lack of energy in my system draining. Through the scope, I searched for a good shot, trying to follow the mechanical rhythm of the Geth's punishing blows. The Lieutenant's arms buckled, his barrier flickering; he didn't have much time. Williams's attention was split between taking down the giant synthetic and firing somewhere beyond my line of sight. She tossed her Lancer aside, and pulled out a shotgun, firing directly at the Geth's back. A halo of energy dissipated from around the it; its shields were gone.

"Alenko!" I shouted, "Toss it!"

The Lieutenant chanced a look sideways at me before nodding once. Just as another punch came, he forced his barrier outward, throwing the large machine off-balance. In the three seconds the Geth took to catch itself, Alenko gathered as much energy as he could and channeled it through both of his arms, thrusting upwards. The synthetic took off towards the sky, spinning wildly.

"Steady now," I breathed, finding my shot through the scope. Adrenaline flooded my veins, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. At the peak of the Geth's trajectory, time nearly stopped. My finger was poised on the trigger as its head lined up in my crosshairs. Just before it began to fall, I fired straight through the lamp in its face. The disrupting shot send a wave of electricity throughout its body, its limbs jerking sporadically before it hit the ground.

"Get out of there!" I hollered at the two, a spike of fear hitting my chest before it exploded.

Shrapnel rained down from above, hitting the tracks with heavy, metallic clanging. I ran forward, gripping my Sniper Rifle tightly with both hands. Using the lip of the cargo train, I boosted myself up and over, only to be met with heavy fire from further down the tracks. My own shields shorted out as I rolled down into cover, a zap of electricity coursing through my skin as it dissipated. My squadmates were pressed against the small barriers as well; Williams applying medi-gel to her leg, and Alenko hunched over and breathing heavily across the way.

"Status?" I asked.

"Got a piece of its armor stuck in my leg, but I won't feel it in a few seconds" Williams reported, breathing heavily. The shard in question stuck out a considerable length from her right mid-thigh, blood welling up to drip down and over the sides of her armor. It dotted the cargo train's floor, but seemed to be clotting well with the help of the medical salve she started to apply. I looked to the Lieutenant, but he didn't acknowledge my gaze. His whole body was shaking with fatigue as his breaths came fast and hard. Sweat trickled down his blanched, pallid face as he blinked repeatedly, trying to gather focus.

"He looks like he's going to throw up," the Chief noted, noticing my attention had changed. Alenko's head wagged slightly as if denying it. His eyes flitted sideways, a drop of sweat falling from the tip of his nose before he looked away, teeth clenched in pain.

"How many Geth are at the end of the Train?" I asked, pulling my eyes away from him.

"Eight," she shook her head. "Four on each side, but it's over a hundred meters. I tried to hit a few... I don't have the range."

"I'll handle it."

I checked my Equalizer for damage -all clear- before ordering my two wounded mates to stay put. Alenko's head jerked sideways in my periphery, his eyes wide. Williams was about to say something just as I ducked out of cover and stormed forward, trusting my recovered shields to keep me alive as I ran down the train aisle.

A flood of concentrated fire hit me as I ran. I felt a slug break through my shields as they failed, grazing my right leg. Without thinking, I ducked to the right, rolling behind another metal barrier and pressing my back against it. I winced as my fingers assessed the damage. The shot had taken a good chunk out of my pad, my N7 suit underneath torn. The heat from the slug had cauterized my wound, only a small welling of blood rising as I gingerly pressed around it. A mildly agonizing burn was working its way throughout the rest of my leg, my muscles contracting and releasing in sporadic twitches. I sucked in a breath and forced it out through my teeth, dragging my mind away from the pain.

With another deep breath, I found a better grip on the Equalizer and whipped out of cover. Using the barricade as a prop, I lined up my first shot. Bullets rained around me, my shields still trying to recover as shot after shot glanced off them.

"Alenko, I need you and Williams to draw fire from the left," I radioed, the first synthetic's head in my crosshairs. Without a word, a steady stream of suppressive fire came in from behind me, pulling the attention of the other Geth. I pulled the trigger, my aim true. The first four went down without any trouble, the self-destruction of one triggering the other three. One of the remaining four was too close, and got thrown from train towards the oncoming tracks. I used the opportunity to fire two quick shots into its chest.

Ducking back down, I quickly vented my sniper rifle, clenching my teeth against the raw pain in my left leg. Drops of blood hit the train floor with a rhythmic pat pat pat as I swiveled, popping back out of cover to line up another shot. One of the remaining Geth fired directly towards me, forcing me back down, but not before the shot connected with the side of my rifle. A wave of electricity flooded through me into the train's metal floor, knocking me on my back.

My helmet contracted around my head; too tight. I fought for sensation in my limbs only to feel consciousness fade around me.

Golden sunlight, warm hands, a field of tall, green grass. I'm on Jonathan's shoulders, wildflowers leaping out of my grasp and flying back, the wind carrying them far and wide. My parents look up to smile but all I see is-

Blood.

Their bodies intertwined, their life pooling around them. Jonathan is gone. I am alone, under a desk, clutching a useless gun and a grenade. The door slides open, and a hand...

The child in me screams.

I jolted back into consciousness with a gasp. My muscles seized with immediate pain, pulling a small noise from somewhere in the back of my throat. I felt my skin prickling with energy, the hair at the back of my neck rising with it. I pulled myself up, ripping my helmet off to breathe. Cool, humid air met with the sweat on my neck and face, the acrid smells of battle filling my nose more acutely. My bun unwound, the hair falling against my back and sticking to my slick skin.

I allowed myself three deep breaths before moving. My Equalizer was virtually useless. The Geth's shot had hit a vent, causing the entire thing to overheat and warp. I forced it back into a semblance of its original locked position, and placed in on my back, heat radiating off it in waves. I pulled out the Stiletto, took one last deep breath, and stood.

"Shepard?!" I heard from behind me.

The three remaining Geth fired on me, slugs killing my shields almost instantly. I let my biotic energy radiate out past my skin and around my armor, feeling the tightly woven connection of the barrier react to my every movement. I fired as I pressed forward, instinctively reinforcing it as each wave of shots hit my chest, head, and legs. I managed to destroy two before the third threw up a kinetic shield. Without pause, I continued to fire. It flickered, then died, and the synthetic soon followed. I waited until all three had destructed before moving to access the terminal at the front of the train, kicking an errant arm out of the way. I set course for B Port, only five minutes away, proceeding to redo my hair into a tighter, higher ponytail. It trailed down to mid-back, gently swirling around me as I turned to address my squadmates running down the aisle.

"Expect a heavy resistance around the beacon," I said, "I want tight defensive formations and better accuracy. How are we doing?"

Both of them just stared. My helmet hung from Alenko's fingers. Seeing that I noticed, he held it out wordlessly, eyes wide. I took it and threw it off the moving train in a burst of frustration.

"How. Are. We. Doing?" I tried again, injecting steel into my voice.

"Respectfully Ma'am, What the fuck was that?" Williams asked. "That was some shit straight from the vids." Blood caked her already-dirt crusted pads, the shard of Geth armor still sticking out. Alenko was still pale, but not as ghostly, a burst of color flushing his cheeks.

"I'm assuming since both of you are upright and moving that you're mostly fine," I continued, ignoring both of their slack-jawed gazes. "We're coming up to the terminal; I need you sharp."

"Shepard..." Alenko started. He wasn't going to let this go. My entire body seized with pain as I shifted my weight and stared him down.

"Sharp."

The rest of the ride over was silent. I checked the Stiletto over and vented it completely, leaving the disruptive ammo in. A stinging burn from the Equalizer pierced through my pads to my skin. I concentrated on that rather than the hammering ache seizing control of my entire body. I gripped the edges of the train console, my chest suddenly and painfully squeezing. I tried to breathe through it, the air getting stuck in the same spot the giant Geth hit when it rammed into me. This was the second time within an hour that this was happening. I was more confused than concerned.

"Here we go," I heard Williams murmur from behind. I struggled upright, forcing a hard mask across the pain.

The train screeched to a stop, right in front of a white Geth hunched over some kind of detonation device. Alenko threw it to the other side of the tracks and rushed forward before I could move, bending down to inspect it. Williams fired over the side of the train, making sure it was dead.

"Commander, it's a hydrogen-based bomb," he reported, "It's still initializing… one out of four."

"They're trying to blow the entire colony sky high," Williams said.

"Can you triangulate the position of the others?" I asked.

"Yes, but I need to get this one offline first."

"Let me do it," I said, bending down beside him. My entire body screamed in pain.

"Commander I don't think- "

"Did I ask you to?" I snapped.

"No Ma'am," he stuttered, bewildered surprise flitting across his face. "I just…" he tried again, a thoughtful frown passing across his face. He was trying to choose the right words. When he saw my answering expression he backed up, repeating "No Ma'am."

I looked over the bomb, checking the screen. With my omni-tool out, I worked quickly, bypassing the bomb's interface. Once the initializing was complete, we would have five minutes to disable the other three. I jammed the receiver and stood- this bomb wouldn't be getting any messages soon. The screen flickered to black and I knew my job was done.

"The other three are up the stairs and across the platform," Alenko reported. His voice was efficient, businesslike.

"Five minutes on the clock," I said, setting the timer on my omni-tool, "Let's move."

We booked it up the stairs, only to be met by heavy fire from the opposite side of the platform. A red dot raced across the floor. I somersaulted forward just before a slug nailed the spot I'd previously been.

"Sniper!" Williams shouted, rolling behind a support beam farther down our side. "It's behind those crates!" She gestured with her gun in the general direction of the docking bay.

"There's another bomb, straight across!" Alenko hollered over the gunfire at me. I peeked out of cover and saw it, angled in a corner between a support and a wall.

"Threat first, bombs later," I ordered, popping out of cover to fire at the Geth rifleman stooping out from behind a large shipping crate. A lucky shot connected with its face, sending it towards the ground. The following explosion sent two more scuttling from behind the crates. Alenko and Williams took them out easily.

We moved farther down our side of the platform, using the support beams and a few shipping crates for cover. Peeking out from another column, I saw the sleek black armor of the sniper before it ducked out of sight. Two more white Geth moved in from across the way. Their weapons were larger and more formidable-looking than those of the gray foot-soldiers.

A large burst of red-hued light bloomed from one of the white Geth's rifle before a dense ball of plasma came rocketing towards us.

"Get down!" I shouted, swerving out of the line of fire. The plasma ate through a huge chunk of the platform's wall behind us before dissipating.

"Holy shit," Williams breathed behind me.

"Nobody play the Hero," I ordered, trying to think through the pain wracking my body. "Alenko, I need you to make a barrier wall. Big enough for the three of us."

When he didn't answer immediately I looked behind. His face had suddenly aged ten years.

"…I can give you thirty, maybe forty-five seconds tops. That's assuming we don't get blown up."

"Understood. Williams and I will concentrate fire on one at a time. I'll throw a grenade first then we push forward."

"What about that sniper?" Williams reminded me.

"One thing at a time," I said. I checked my omni-tool: 180 seconds left. "On my mark," I ordered, moving to the edge of the support column. "Move!"

We burst out of cover, Williams to my left, Alenko directly behind. The barrier wall burst alive in front of us. Rapid fire pelted its surface, but it held fast. I took the chance to fire on the Geth closest to us, engaging an incendiary explosive and tossing it forward. It landed at the synthetic's foot and detonated, fire blooming outward to swallow everything within a five-meter radius.

"Go, go, go!" I ordered, storming down the short bridge to the opposite side of the platform.

A white mechanical arm, charred and billowing smoke appeared through the haze. I slammed into the Geth's body with my left shoulder, sending us both to the ground. My Stiletto went to its throat and fired three times before the synthetic went limp. I pushed off the Geth and rolled to the right, covering my head just before it blew. Something sharp bit into my leg, above the ankle. I stifled a cry, forcing myself beyond the pain with a solid, deep inhale.

I felt my mind pull free from the moment, the injury and hurt my body had taken. With another inhale, my heartbeat reached my ears and I felt the ever-present energy inside me slither through my veins. Time slowed. As I planted my foot into the solid metal of the platform, I felt Williams rush past, firing at the sniper behind the wall. Alenko disengaged his barrier, from behind, throwing the dregs of his energy at the last Geth moving towards us. They fell to the ground at once, my two squad mates falling back around me. The black Geth self-destructed, chunks of debris skidding across the platform as I stood. The silence that followed was deafening. I flicked my omni-tool open; 90 seconds.

"Shepard!" The Lieutenant roared, his own energy bursting out into another barrier. I felt his arm wrap around me from behind as the rocket launched towards us. The world disappeared and my mind went blank. My body took over, biotic energy coursed through my skin into Alenko and beyond, into the barrier. A spike of almost electric pleasure sent a shiver through my body as I felt the loose patchwork of his biotics knit tightly together with mine. His heartbeat fell into rhythm with mine, the intimate contact invigorating and terrifying all at once. Our biotics strengthened into a wall of pure energy just as the rocket made contact.

Pleasure turned to excruciating pain as we both knee-jerked against the rush of opposing force, our tightly-woven energy buckling sharply in surprise. I fell against him, trying in vain to keep conscious. As the rocket dissipated, my biotics fell to pieces, energy fleeing my body so quickly my blood felt like it was running backwards in my veins.

"Just. Let. Go," I heard against my ear. My body folded. I slumped against him, slowly, reluctantly releasing the death-grip I maintained around my biotics at all times. Alenko's arm tightened around me, his energy mingling with mine, growing, ready to push back. I felt his heartbeat slow, the wall pulling together into a tight mass. Calm, calculated, efficient, he directed the combined force outwards towards the last Geth, propelling it over the side of the platform and slamming it into the tracks below where it finally detonated.

My head was swimming, each muscle, bone, and tendon aching beyond belief. The pain in my ankle had crescendoed into something terrible. Sound, sight, and smell came back in fragments of reflex. I breathed in, trying to find the strength to move. What the hell had just happened? Despite my body's pulsing ache, a strange sense of… something was boiling low in my belly.

"Are you alright Commander?" the Lieutenant asked, his arm still firmly around my waist. There was no avoiding his questions now.

"There's still work to do," I murmured instead, trying to pull away. I owed him big time for this, and I didn't like it.

"That's not an answer," he said. Ignoring his rather ballsy breach in protocol, I yanked myself away from him, immediately unsteady. His hand wrapped around my elbow, tugging me gently upright. My body warmed at the touch. Defiantly, I turned away, refusing to look at him. I felt disgusting for being so childish, but I was too stubborn to acknowledge whatever was happening. I turned my attention to my omni-tool: 73 seconds.

"We still have three bombs to diffuse."

"There are two down at the end of this side of the platform- towards the way we came," he reported, snapping to attention. "The third-"

"Is right behind here," Williams interrupted. We both looked to her. She was standing with her gun pointed towards another massive system, her eyes trained on Alenko and I. Though her face was carefully arranged into a mask of indifference, her eyes were filled with questions.

"Williams," I said.

"Forget about me, Commander?" she asked, head tilted, her eyes playful. "I'm perfectly fine with not understanding whatever the hell just happened."

The bombs didn't take too much time to diffuse. Whatever system the Geth were using was meant to get the job done quickly, not effectively. We tagged them for Alliance pick-up, and put warnings across their screens, just in case any civilians got too close.

"How are we doing over here?" I asked, leaning heavily against a support beam while Alenko fiddled with the final warning on his omni-tool.

"Just a second and we're good to go."

"Commander, I found the way down to the docking bay," Williams called from behind us. I raised my hand in acknowledgement, signaling her to stay back.

"I want to thank you," I started.

"I know you would do the same for me Commander," he replied, standing. He stood a good head-and-a-half taller than I did which hadn't bothered me before, but was suddenly, surprisingly uncomfortable. His eyes held mine briefly, "We're marines," he said solemnly, "We stick together." His gaze was piercing, soul bearing. He was searching for something in me that I had hidden well until that point, and suddenly, I wanted to open up.

I wanted to tell him everything. Honestly crawled up the back of my throat like vomit, but I wanted, needed, him to know. About Mindoir, what really happened on Akuze, Torfan, and Elysium. I wanted him to know my secrets because maybe he wouldn't judge me. Someone like him had to have his own baggage, I didn't know anybody in the Alliance who didn't. The urge to speak nearly overwhelmed me, but I clenched my fist, the pain in my arm muscles dulled by a fresh dose of medi-gel. It was enough to clear my head.

I needed to take a step back and to think. Once we got the beacon it was mission over. I thought about the names on my list. All good people, all people I had been close with, had trusted, mentored, and adored. All dead. What use was trying to move past it when it happened so often? Jenkin's face flitted across my memory. It was pointless. I felt the scar on my face more acutely than ever before.

"Your secrets are safe with me, Commander," he said, breaking the silence. He was once again stiff and professional. He'd known. Of course he had. There was definitely more that met the eye when it came to the Lieutenant. He brushed past me, and for a moment, I didn't know what to do.

"I-" I started, but stopped short. I heard him pause behind me, waiting for more. I turned to look at the broad, solid back in front of me. Unexpectedly, he turned, our eyes dancing around each other. This was enough. I just shook my head, breathing in sharply through my nose. I looked away from his dark eyes, my face settling back into the familiar mask of quiet strength I'd worn my entire adult life. Flexing my hands, I strode past him, chin high and rolled my shoulders to work out the tension. Williams looked like she was about to ask something, but I silenced her with a look. There was still work to do.

I walked around the corner, down the ramp that lead to an open docking space.

"Wait, Commander don't-" I heard faintly, before the screeching started. Metal ground against metal as the spikes descended, releasing four undead from their lofty prisons. Alenko and Williams ran in behind me.

"Shit," I muttered, pulling out the Stiletto, "Weapons free!" I ordered.

I launched myself over the side of the ramp, landing hard on my feet and knees below. Two of the husk-like creatures began lumbering to me as I picked myself up. Before they could close in, I dropped a grenade and turned, sprinting out of range. The explosion sent pieces everywhere. A bloody rain of dismembered parts slammed against the ground with sickening smacks, whatever limbs were left immediately catching fire. The smell that filled the air hit me hard, making me gag. It wasn't like other dead bodies, stronger, almost caustic. I wished, suddenly, that I hadn't tossed my helmet.

"Commander!" I heard from the opposite end of the docks. Without thinking I ran forward through the puddle of fragmented bodies, splashing blood all over my grieves. The medi-gel had stemmed most of the pain throughout my body, but my ankle was done for. Sharp, agonizing daggers pulsed up my leg with every fall of my foot on the unforgiving metal floor.

To my surprise, the other two husks laid face down, their bodies riddled with holes and devoid of the blue electricity that gave them life.

"Everyone alright?" I asked, breathing deeply to calm the wild beating of my heart.

"Fine," Williams said offhandedly, instead pointing at something beyond me, "Look. There's your beacon."

I turned, following her finger. Just ahead was a tall, slender pillar of solid metal. It reached probably ten or twelve feet into the air and had the faintest pearly sheen. It was activated in some way, veins of energy lighting the beacon's surface from the inside. A steady beam of emerald light pierced through the thick veil of rain-pregnant clouds from its top. Though it was clean, traces of whatever ivy-like flora was on Eden Prime's surface wrapped around the base an up, leaving a trail of dead, broken branches and small anchoring roots.

"It's enormous," Alenko murmured next to me.

I pulled up the Normandy's radio channel on my omni-tool and patched my close-range earwig into it. I briefly thought about my helmet again, lying somewhere along the cargo train's tracks and felt a slight pang of guilt. I'd been reckless to do that, and would probably catch flak from the Captain for throwing it in the first place.

"Normandy," I radioed in, turning away from the beacon. "Commander Shepard reporting."

"Shepard!" I immediately heard Anderson's reply, "We lost your helmet signal. What's your status?"

"The package is secure, all hostiles in the area eliminated."

"Normandy is en route, ETA 3 min."

"Copy. Sir," I started. I began relaying him details about the mission -and Nihlus- not fully paying attention to my two squad mates approaching the massive Prothean Artifact.

"Incredible," I heard Alenko saying, his voice almost reverent. "Actual working Prothean technology- it's almost unbelievable and yet… here it is."

"It wasn't doing anything like that when they dug it up," Williams replying, mystified. "Something's got to have activated it."

"We'll let the Alliance handle it Shepard," Anderson went on. "Our main objective is getting the beacon to the Citadel. You've done well."

"Thank you, sir," I said. "And about my helmet…"

I felt someone come up behind me. I turned to find Ashley, standing quietly at attention. I nodded in acknowledgement which she returned briefly.

"We'll have them pick it up and send it to the Citadel. Lord knows how long we'll be there with the developments that've occurred."

"Copy that," I said. "Standing by."

I looked up at Williams, only to see Alenko walking further towards the beacon. Just as my mouth opened to warn him away, a shockwave sent me on my back. Struggling upwards, I saw Alenko held aloft, bright green light pulling everything within a full meter of the beacon towards it.

Instinctively, I scrambled to my feet and ran to the beacon, using the momentum of its pull to leap off my good leg and grab the Lieutenant around the middle. He grunted as I made contact, our combined weight throwing us to the ground. I felt my legs skidding towards the beam, my own body too light to hold its own. With all the strength I could muster, I pushed Alenko out of the beacon's circle, letting myself slide further in.

A high-pitched whine invaded my ears, penetrating deep into the back of my skull. My breath caught, the pain immediate and hard. I felt my biotics rise to protect me, the clash of energies sending waves of agony throughout my body. I hunched forward, gripping the sides of my head to try and suppress the sound, maybe stop the noise. It was all in vain. I grunted, my feet still sliding towards the beacon. Suddenly, I was aloft. The pressure of the beacon's pull yanked my hands to my sides as it lifted me up. My head tilted back under the enormous weight as the whine crescendoed into a shriek. I screamed.

"Commander!"

"No! Don't touch her, it's too dangerous!"

Faces everywhere. Haunting masks of people once alive, now gone forever. They circle around me, demanding justice, demanding penance, demanding life. The screaming won't stop.

Make it stop. Please, make it stop.

Have mercy on me.

I watched from the walls of my mind, felt as my body convulsed, releasing years of pent-up biotic energy. It tore through everything. The shipping crates, the beacon, the ground, the support beams. It all disappeared. When I hit the ground, I barely registered the contact. Pain had subsided into a cold numbness, starting at my fingers and spreading upwards.

"Commander? Commander!"

Who?

"She's not breathing."

A hand on my chest. Fingers at my throat.

"Her pulse is faint, but it's there."

Breath at my ear, he murmurs.

"Shepard? Can you hear me? I've got you."

Oblivion swallowed me whole.


	13. Entry 13

[Entry 13: The Citadel]

 _Bodies everywhere. Broken, beaten, desecrated, hollow. The End of Days comes in jagged fragments; phantom shards of dreamlike memory attack my mind. Fire. War. Destruction. A never-ending eclipse filled with blood and destruction. Suns are blacked out by the Jaws of Death, swallowed by the unknown void that one day will claim us all. Someone is speaking, but I can't understand. It all plays out, over and over though I beg it to stop. Their faces join the faceless, mingling with those whose identities were stolen by the Flames of Attrition._

 _Jenkins._

 _His eyes stare up at me, hope still sparkling faintly with the light. His mouth moves to speak, blood pouring out the side as he screams silently._

 _Save us._

Consciousness did not come easily. It slipped through my fingers for what seemed like forever until I finally grasped it and hoisted myself up beyond the cloying hands of my nightmares. I inhaled sharply.

"Doctor? Doctor Chakwas, I think she's finally waking up."

 _Alenko._

My eyes fluttered open and began to focus, slowly. The Normandy's ceiling greeted me. When did I get here? I suddenly remembered the beacon and Alenko triggering some sort of... defense mechanism. The pull, the hollow screaming, the voices... I'd been trapped in a never-ending nightmare since I allowed myself to be pulled in.

I became increasingly aware of the cold metal pressing into my back. The Medbay. With a considerable amount of effort, I sat upright, anchoring my hands to the side of the bed. The room swam. My muscles locked up, a stiff ache accompanying every small movement as my body re-acquainted itself with life.

"Ugh," I moaned, my head falling into my hands. My brain felt like it'd been thrown through a meat-grinder.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Shepard," I heard Chakwas say. She soon came up to me, a gentle hand resting on the middle of my back. "Breathe in."

I did as instructed, feeling everything pull taught like a steel wire. I released the breath slowly, allowing myself to sink back into her palm. We repeated the process as Dr. Chakwas moved her stethoscope around my back, and finally to my chest. I gripped the edges of the exam table, staring up at the ceiling. Someone had taken my armor off, but left the jumpsuit on. It was unzipped to the top of my breasts, allowing the cool ship air to press against my collar bones. My hair was loose, and pooled around me, kissing the side of my arm as I swung my legs over the side while the Doctor walked into the Medbay's back office. I noted, briefly, that I was barefoot.

"You had us worried there for a moment Shepard," Chakwas continued from inside the office, probably gathering other instruments to complete her physical. After being poked and prodded in a number of ways she put her tools away and began recording things in her computer. "For the most part, the medi-gel did it's job. Besides some apparent muscle-soreness and what seems to be turning into a mild migraine -judging by your current sensitivity to light- how are you feeling?"

"Some minor throbbing here and there," I winced, hopping off the table. My ankle protested slightly at the newfound pressure, but was steady. The metal floor of the ship was cold to the touch. "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before. How long was I out?"

"A little over twenty-four hours. Something happened with the beacon down on Eden Prime, I think."

"It's my fault," Lieutenant Alenko piped up. I turned, the sudden movement jarring my entire body. I breathed through the pain, forcing myself into better posture. Alenko looked at me, guilt running rampant across his face. He shook his head, "I triggered some sort of... defense protocol when I stepped towards the beacon. There must've been an invisible security field of some kind. You pulled me out of the way and I probably owe my life to you, Commander. I have no idea how you're standing here."

He hunched a little at the shoulders; this obviously bothered him quite a bit. It was interesting to see such a stalwart person so shaken by what had happened. I took pity on him.

"No one knew what would happen when we went near it, Lieutenant." I sighed, "Better it happened on the ground then with the ship nearby, I suppose." Against my better judgement I added, "You can stop looking like a kicked puppy now, I really am fine."

He closed his eyes, exhaling a chuckle. A hand went up to rub at his eyes. He'd actually lost sleep over this?

"Honestly," Dr. Chakwas said, a small smile at the corner of her mouth, "we don't even know if that's what triggered it. Unfortunately we won't get a chance to find out."

"What does she mean?" I tilted my head, looking back to Alenko.

"The beacon exploded," he explained. His eyes suddenly bored into mine. "Half the docking bay was destroyed too. But it's strange, Chief Williams and I were untouched." I offered him silence instead of answers. Somehow, my biotics were involved, but I didn't know how.

"The blast threw you, knocking you out," Chakwas said. "The Lieutenant carried you onto the ship and brought you to me."

"Thank you," I nodded to the Lieutenant. "I appreciate it."

He simply shrugged, a small humble gesture. The barest hint of a smile caught the corner of his mouth as our gazes touched for a moment.

"I'm just glad you're alright."

There was a sudden, unexpected tenderness in the way he spoke that immediately brought me back to when our energies bonded on Eden Prime. My skin flushed at the memory, the faint tang of our connection slipping into my blood. A small fluttering bloomed in my lower belly, carrying an almost electric pleasure with it. The heat spread across my skin, around the swell of my chest, past my neck and up to my ears. I abruptly snapped towards the Doctor, trying to tamp the intimate memory down. _Deep_ down.

"How much damage _did_ I take, Doc?" I redirected, surreptitiously pulling the zipper of my suit all the way up to my neck.

"Well, your thigh was grazed from whatever bullets you took while fighting. There was some deep bruising and the bone connecting your ribs was slightly cracked as well. The worst was your ankle. Whatever sliced through your boot was inches from severing your Achilles Tendon. It is still a little sore yes?"

I nodded, "Nothing I can't manage."

"I would still be careful." I nodded again. "The medi-gel has served its purpose," she continued. "But I would continue applying it to your ribs and especially your ankle. The wound on your leg shouldn't scar, it wasn't terribly deep. Other than that I would say that you are fine. Physically."

"Physically?" Alenko and I asked at the same time. It took all of my will not to look back at him.

"Yes. I monitored you as you slept and detected some rather unusual brain activity. Abnormal normal beta wave construct and an increase in your rapid-eye movement; signs typically associated with intense _dreaming_."

I exhaled slowly, my eyes slipping shut, and allowed flashes of the nightmares to come forth. Blood. Fire. War. The Eclipse that never ended. The frightened, broken voice that I could not understand, even after hearing it hundreds and hundreds of times as it played like a broken record. Even awake, a cold-sweat kind of fear sent a shiver down my spine. I looked at Chakwas who observed me silently, letting me take my time.

"I saw-" I started, trying to find the words. I was acutely aware of Alenko standing behind me, a quiet pillar. "I'm not...sure what I saw," I finished lamely. After a moment I tried again, "There was a lot of death; some kind of... voice I couldn't understand." It played again, echoing in my ears, "Nothing's clear, it's all... fragments, pictures."

Silence followed my admission. I could feel the Lieutenant's gaze at my back, almost see the look of concern on his face. For a moment, I could hear myself breathing a little too loudly, a small ache pulsing in between my ribs where I was thrown by that massive Geth. My gaze dropped to the floor. Jenkins stared blankly into my soul.

"Hmm," Dr. Chakwas finally said, as I blinked the Private away, shaking my head. "I'd better add this to the report. It may-" The door into the Medbay slid open. I swiveled around, my eyes flitting from the Lieutenant's to Captain Anderson's as he strode in.

"Oh, Captain Anderson," she acknowledged. Both the Lieutenant and I snapped into a salute.

"At ease," he nodded, answering the salute. He stopped by me, and looked to the doctor. "How's our XO holding up?"

"All her scans read normal. The small check up I did tells me she's going to be just fine."

"Glad to hear it. Shepard, I need to speak with you," Alenko's eyes looked to me from over the Captain's shoulders. My eyes flitted briefly to his, then away. "In private," the Captain added.

"Aye aye, Captain" Alenko saluted, turning on his heel and leaving without another word.

"You may want to use my personal office Captain," the Doctor said. "I will be out in the mess hall if you need me." She too left, a void filling in their absence. The Captain gestured to Chakwas' small office, just a desk and shelves bolted into the wall with a small bed in the opposite corner. Her personal effects were as few-and-far-between as mine, just a foot-locker hidden under the desk, a few paper books, and some pictures. A series of medical and scientific instruments along with her personal computer filled the desk space. It was cosy, if not a little dark.

The Captain closed the door behind us, automatic lighting illuminating the space from the floor.

"According to Alenko's report, that beacon seemed to hit you pretty hard. I know the Doctor says you're fine, but are you really?"

I thought back to the mission. Every step, every shot, every failure, every success. The Geth. The undead Husks they created out of innocent civilians. Jenkins, reduced to cannon fodder. Chief Williams and her entire unit -a unit of fully-trained, heavily-armored Marines- taken down so _effortlessly_. Manuel's mindless ramblings ran through my head, mixing with pieces of my nightmares.

 _The age of humanity has ended, soon only ruin and corpses will remain._

"Permission to speak freely?" I asked. He nodded once. "We should have had more intel before touching ground, sir," I managed to get out. I thought of Jenkins, his eyes already stilled in death as I reached his side. "It was a complete... _shitshow_. We were totally unprepared... and it cost us."

"Jenkins wasn't your fault, Shepard." I'd been caught. I tried to hide the somewhat startled expression that broke across my face and was unsuccessful. "Neither was Nihlus."

My shoulders hunched under the weight of Anderson's scrutiny. I shouldn't have expected any less from someone as shrewd as the Captain. He was highly respected within the ranks and decorated to boot. I'd heard of his accomplishments way back in Academy. The silence was deafening for a moment.

The Captain sighed, "Hackett told me you were hard on yourself. Look, I know whatever I say won't make you feel any less guilty, but Shepard, we've all been there. You did well given the circumstances."

I simply nodded, my lips settling into a hard line. I wondered briefly if Jenkin's body had been returned to his parents; Eden Prime had been his home after all. Were his parents even alive? My thoughts turned to all the other marines killed in action: the Alliance had an entire platoon to ship back home. I remembered Torfan, the line of caskets and the waiting as families came to claim whatever was left of their sons and daughters. Then I thought of Williams. She'd made it, hadn't she?

"Sir, what happened to that Gunnery Chief?" I suddenly asked, "Williams- Ashley Williams."

He nodded, seeming to expect the question, "She was the one who briefed me on the entire mission while Lieutenant Alenko brought you here. I decided to keep her on board- she seems capable enough."

"More than," I answered, nodding in approval. I crossed my arms, thinking back on the mission. "She's a bit of a hothead though."

"Aren't we all when we're that young?"

" _I'm_ that young."

"Exactly."

I blew out a laugh, scratching behind my ear to mask the chagrin. He wasn't wrong- as usual.

"Was this all you wanted to talk about, sir?" I asked, feeling somewhat uplifted at the companionable exchange. My question snapped the Captain to attention. At his sudden tension, I stood erect, my hands crossing instinctively behind my back, all traces of leisure gone.

"I'm won't lie to you, Commander. Nihlus is dead, the beacon was destroyed, and the Geth are invading. The Council's going to want answers, answers we don't have. As of right now, things are looking pretty bad." The silence was thick and uncomfortable.

"The beacon's destruction isn't something they'll easily forget," I said, clenching my jaw. "But, we have nothing to hide from them. Our honesty should at least win some points." It was more of a question than a statement. I was a soldier, not a politician, what did I know?

"I'm not too worried about the beacon, Shepard," He shrugged. "Whatever you put in your report I will stand by one-hundred percent. As far as I'm concerned, we would've lost the colony if you hadn't been there."

"Thank you, sir," I murmured, bowing slightly. His faith in me felt misplaced. I would have to work harder if I wanted to deserve his trust.

"Shepard, there's more," he continued, his voice dropping into a grim murmur. "The other turian in Williams'. Saren." The temperature dropped about ten degrees in the office. Anderson said the turian's name with enough barely contained rage to warrant my curiosity.

"He's a SPECTRE," the Captain explained. "One of the Council's best; a damn legend. If he's working with the Geth, it means he's gone rogue. I don't have to tell you how much trouble this will be."

The implications began pulling together in my head, fashioning themselves into one scenario after another, each bloodier than the last. Jenkins stared at me, upside down, his body hanging limp from a towering, metal spike. His blood dripped into my eye. I blinked furiously.

"No sir," I answered, clearing my throat to try and rid the vision. "But sir, I don't fully understand. What possible reason would a SPECTRE -even a rogue one- have for slaughtering innocents? Even if he was after the Beacon, there are plenty of ways to steal something without razing an entire colony of... _farmers_." I thought a about Mindoir, a lifetime ago. Eden Prime was so similar in so many ways.

"He's always hated humans. Innocent or not, it doesn't matter to him," the Captain replied. So he _did_ have a past with this turian. The stone set to his face told me now wasn't the time to ask.

"Why does he hate humans?" I asked instead.

"He thinks we're growing too fast, taking over the galaxy. A lot of Aliens think that way. Most of them don't do anything about it."

"But Saren has an unknown amount of support from the Geth. How did he get them to operate beyond the Veil?"

"I don't _know_ how, and I don't know _why_." Frustration twisted his face. "Nobody has answers. The only thing we _do_ understand is that the Beacon is somehow connected."

"But now it's gone," I finished the thought.

"Shepard, it's not your fault," he said again, "It was an ancient technology that even our top archaeologists could barely understand. It would have done that even if you hadn't been there."

"I _would_ like to believe that, Captain, but I don't remember enough clearly to know for certain."

"What happened," he asked earnestly, "before the Beacon destructed? Did you see anything? We need clues to figure out what Saren was after. I'm sure anything you can dredge up will be useful."

It'd been glowing, a beam of light piercing the clouds above. Thinking back, it'd obviously been touched or tampered with before we'd found it. Then the Lieutenant activated it. Just after I'd thrown him back, the Beacon had pulled me in with some kind of gravity field. I'd been pulled into the air before...

Fractured images invaded my mind. The violence of my memories made me inhale sharply. Bodies. Screaming. A War. The Sun, blotted out entirely.

"It's all in pieces," I finally said, my mind running through the horrible scene on a loop. "Just before I blacked out... and even as I slept, I... saw things. I guess you could call it a vision?"

"A vision? Vision of what?" he leaned in, curious.

"A battle? Maybe..." Horrified screaming jarred my thoughts. "No," I rephrased, "A slaughter. Something was cutting people down- a synthetic? I don't know."

"This should be reported to the Council," The Captain answered.

"And tell them what?" I snorted derisively, "I had some nightmares? Doesn't everyone have them?"

"It could have been triggered by the Beacon. We have no idea what was stored in there. Lost Prothean technology? Blueprints for some kind of weapon? Whatever it was, it was important enough that Saren needed it. We're two steps behind on this one, Shepard, we need all the information we can get."

"Sir, I don't think-" I started.

"Saren's attack on Eden Prime was a message," he stated assuredly. I could see the pieces of information he was trying to fit together, even if I didn't know what all of them held. "I know him. His reputation, his politics, everything. Of course, he wanted that colony obliterated, he thinks humans are a blight on the galaxy. This is an act of _war_ , Shepard. He won't stop until all of humanity is wiped out. We need the Council to see that one way or another."

"He has whatever information was inside the Beacon," I said, "If we can prove to them that he's working with the Geth, they'll have to strip him of his SPECTRE status at the very least."

"It's not going to be that easy. Saren is their top agent. He can go anywhere, _do_ anything. To get the Council on our side we'll need solid evidence. When we corroborate you and your team's reports, it should be enough."

"There's also the scientists," I said, "and Powell, the dock worker." Just thinking about the smuggling half-wit made my skin crawl.

"I'll contact the Ambassador. Hopefully he'll be able to get an audience with the Council before we arrive. He'll want to see us the second we reach the Citadel."

"How soon?"

"Any time now. I want you and your squad in dress blues. Find someone on board that Williams can borrow from, and tell Joker to head straight into dock."

"Aye, Aye," I saluted. The Captain left first, headed to his Cabin to make the call. I followed only when I'd let the silence fill my ears for a moment. There was too much noise in my head, and it was putting me on edge.

My bare feet made almost no sound as I exited the medbay into the main space on mid-deck. A Commander out of uniform with her hair billowing around her waist. I must've been quite the sight. A small galley was right across from me, the mess table taking up the majority of the space. Down and to the right were the sleeper pods, the crew's footlockers stored underneath the floor. Behind the galley was the Captain's cabin. I'd never been inside, but apparently it had a queen-sized bed with an actual mattress. Williams stood by the door to the cabin, fingering some bauble around her neck. Alenko was to my left, sipping a cup of coffee while leaning against the dividing wall the Normandy's elevator was housed behind.

"All finished?" Chakwas said, coming from the right. She'd been leaning against a short bulkhead, next to the Officer's equipment lockers. My locker.

"Thank you Doctor," I nodded.

"Of course," she replied. "I'm just surprised the damage wasn't worse, considering the stories Alenko told me."

"I-" I started, about to tell her. This was a conversation we would need to have in private. "I'll tell you about it later," I promised. I would need her advice. With the increasing amount of stress on this mission, I was worried that my biotics would completely take over. I'd suppressed them for so long... it was like a leaking dam. Soon, something would give. As to when- I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"Alright," she nodded. "I trust you know how to take care of yourself Shepard, but come see me whenever you'd like. Also, here." After handing me a sturdy hair-tie, She left for the confines of the medbay, leaving me to myself. I quickly bent over, brushing my hair over to pull it up into a high ponytail. Swinging upright, my eyes flicked over to Alenko as I gathered my hair together. He was peering at me over the top of his cup, steam curling a stray hair away from his head. His eyes didn't waver from mine, even as he took a sip, but I couldn't tell what expression they held. I knew he'd want answers. I pulled the knot tight, letting my hair fall back down to the top of my backside without looking away. His eyes took me in, traveling the length of my body. Wait, was he- _checking me out_? The memory of his arm around me came unbidden, a wave of heat roiling through me.

"Yo, Alenko," one of the soldiers eating called. An Engineer, Thomson was his name. The Lieutenant turned his head, his eyes holding mine until the last second. When they finally focused in on the people seated around the table, I let out the swell of air I'd unconsciously been holding in. Holy hell that was intimidating. Every inch of my skin flushed at his gaze. He'd nearly skewered me with his eyes.

I walked over to Williams, who didn't seem to know I was approaching until I was directly in front of her.

"Oh!" She said, coming back from whatever place her mind had taken her to. "Commander, I'm glad you're alright. After everything that happened... I was scared for a moment you weren't going to make it."

I smiled slightly, "Neither did I. How are you settling in?"

"It's strange," she tilted her head, meeting my eyes solemnly. "Even though I didn't know Jenkins, I can feel how much he meant to the crew." Her fingers rubbed a small, golden cross at the base of her neck. My eyes flicked down to them as they almost methodically turned it over and over in her hand.

"Small ships don't just bring people closer together physically," I nodded. "Jenkins was definitely one of the bigger personalities on the Normandy. You couldn't help but like him."

Williams smiled, a small laugh coming from her nose. "Sounds like Todd."

"Todd?"

"He's in the 212, one of the scouts." Her eyes lit up when she spoke. She must've been close with him. "The best marksman I've ever seen, besides you. He's absolutely obnoxious on duty. Well, until it really matters." The Chief seemed to realize what she was saying, her face gradually falling as she remembered her companion's fate. I knew the feeling all too well. I wanted to do something, _say_ something, but I knew whatever words of comfort I offered her would be dull, nearly meaningless. "He is... _was_ a really great soldier."

"Chief," I started. What the hell could I say?

"It's alright, Commander," she said, gripping the necklace. "Although, I feel a little guilty. If Jenkins hadn't died, I probably wouldn't be here."

"Don't sell yourself short," I chided lightly, following her conversational switch. "You're a good soldier, you deserve to be on the Normandy."

"That means alot coming from you," she grinned. "I've never met someone awarded the Star of Terra before."

I shrugged the compliment off. I hadn't _earned_ it. "Eden Prime was definitely one of my rougher missions," I said instead. "How are you holding up?"

"Aside from seeing my unit completely killed?" she asked, almost flippant. She sighed, pulling herself together. "I've lost friends before, it comes with the uniform, but that..." she trailed off. "It's going to be awhile before... I suppose it would've been a lot worse if you hadn't shown up. I'd probably be dead."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," I smiled sadly at her. She reminded me a lot of myself, so much so that it scared me a little bit. I couldn't help but feel that she was somewhat of a kindred spirit, maybe because of our close ages, or maybe because she'd gone through some of the same things I'd had, and that scared me too. I wasn't looking to make friends on this mission. Once we got to the Citadel and reported Saren, our part in this was over.

"Thanks Commander," her mouth turned up at the corners. "I have to say, I was worried about being assigned to the Normandy, but you've definitely made me feel welcome."

"I think you're going to fit in just fine, Chief." I meant it with my whole heart. She was a good soldier, a little rough around the edges, but that suited me just fine. She was honest, head-strong, but tough, built to withstand the punishment of the Service.

"You're going to need dress blues for the Citadel," I said, remembering the Captain's orders. I quickly ran through a mental list of possible crewmates to find someone her size. "Try talking to Serviceman Copeland," I told her. "She's built sort of like you. Grey eyes, darker skin, black hair, she should be upstairs."

"Will do, Commander," she nodded, adding, "Thank you," before heading up. I turned, resigning myself to speaking with the Lieutenant, only to find him approaching me himself, his fingers loosely gripping the rim of his mug down by his side. I groaned inwardly.

"Commander, I'm glad to see you're okay," he said, placing the mug into the galley's sink. He turned to me, standing tall, his arms crossing at his back. It was always business with him. I was starting to find it rather irritating. His lips turned down at the corners, his eyes falling to the floor. "Losing Jenkins is... taking it's toll on the crew." He looked back up at me, dark rings of purple bruising the underside of his eyes. The same gentleness touched his voice, just as unexpected as before. "It's good we didn't lose you too."

"Things were definitely not ideal," I nodded, wary. Wasn't he going to ask about my biotics? "How are _you_ holding up?"

"Well," he started, rolling his shoulders slightly, "you never really get used to seeing dead civilians; it doesn't seem right, somehow. But at least we stopped the entire colony from joining them."

"You were pretty quick with the bomb defusal," I tilted my head. My ego faltered for a minute. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you. I believe I also owe you my gratitude... for getting me back on the Normandy. Thank you."

"We're marines," he shrugged, "we stick together. Even though I know it was an accident, I can't help but feel like I could have done _something_ to save Jenkins."

"You and me both," I murmured bitterly, before I could stop myself. I looked up at the Lieutenant, eyes wide.

Alenko looked somewhat taken aback. I silently cursed at myself.

"Commander, I was there," he said. "You _tried_ to stop him. I mean, Jenkins was always eager... there was nothing we could do. It was really just... bad luck."

 _One that wouldn't have happened if I was more careful._ I almost laughed. It was completely ironic that a commanding officer couldn't properly handle her soldiers.

"It's definitely been a helluva shakedown," he continued. I looked at him carefully, wondering if her was going to ask. Noticing my gaze he said, "well, I mean, one SPECTRE kills another... the Council's got a lot to be unhappy about. They'll probably use the mission to lever more concessions out of the Alliance."

Alenko's shrewd conclusion of the situation matched almost perfectly what the Captain and I had talked about. He was definitely someone who was either smart enough or experienced enough (most likely both in his case) to know how things worked. It piqued my interest.

Against my better judgment, I asked him about it. "I'm guessing you're a career man, judging by your pretty solid grasp of the situation."

"Yeah a lot of biotics are," he nodded, relaxing his stance slightly. My head tipped to the side in confusion. Alenko was hiding what had happened on Eden Prime? Noticing my expression he explained, "We're unrestricted, but we sure don't go undocumented." He added slyly, "might as well get a paycheck for it."

Did I hallucinate what had happened? He'd certainly been persistent during the mission, what was with the sudden slack? Was he toying with me? I was somewhat... _disappointed_. He was better off not asking and yet... part of me wanted him to. He knew something was up, he even asked during the mission. It's not like he'd go around and tell everyone anyways, Alenko wasn't the kind of person to do that. He was the ride-or-die kind; the perfect poster-child for the Alliance Standard.

"Plus, my father served," he continued, either ignoring or unaware of my inner turmoil. What _was_ it about him that made me lose my composure like this? "Made him proud when I enlisted... eventually." The word was so small, so quiet, I almost missed it. He quickly covered it, saying, "But is that why you're here, Commander? Because of your family?" the question was so innocent, but it made me want to slap him. Why wasn't he asking about my biotics?

"I don't have a family," I exhaled instead, now severely impatient.

"Oh," he said shortly, a little nonplussed. I'd probably sounded a little too blase when releasing that bit of information, but I wasn't really in the mood to think about family. There'd been enough death for the moment. Still, the Lieutenant didn't know, he was just making conversation.

"It's..." I sighed a little, trying to at least redeem myself for my poor manners. "I'm here now, so it's not... really that important, is it?"

"I apologize for being too informal Commander," he responded, that detached, businesslike tone coming back into his voice. His stance tightened again; that was definitely the opposite of what I'd wanted. He'd opened up and I'd slammed the door in his face. It was for the best, wasn't it? Still, I was ashamed. "Can you tell me why we're headed to the Citadel ma'am?" he asked.

I debated on how honest I wanted to be. The private conversation the Captain and I had had was by no means officially confidential, but there was a load of sensitive information that we'd shared. The Lieutenant had been there though, and the least I could do for being an ass was tell him the truth, so I did.

"Hopefully, we'll be meeting with the Council." I spoke calmly, chagrin naturally creeping into my voice. The Lieutenant picked up on it right away, watching me intently through his hazel eyes. "Captain Anderson hopes the Ambassador can get an audience as soon as we dock so we can brief them about Saren."

"That makes sense," he nodded, a tiny grin hiking up the corner of his mouth, "They'd probably like to know he's not working for them anymore." I answered his grin with a slight smile.

"Keep this to yourself," I murmured, stepping towards Alenko. I suddenly wanted to share everything with him. He was someone I knew I could bounce ideas off of, but how much was too much? My bare feet nearly touched his as I shared my one lingering thought, "I think there's something bigger coming, but I don't know what."

"Good or Bad?" he said, voice lowered as he leaned down to eye level. Nothing in his face indicated he was the least bit teasing.

"I don't... I'm not entirely sure. It's just a gut feeling... something that... resonated... when we talked to Dr. Warren and Manuel. But listen," I added hastily, "this isn't something that should be spread around. It's just my own thoughts, understood?"

"Five by five, Commander."

"Good."

"Was there anything else before we head ashore ma'am?" he asked, standing straight again.

"Dress blues, Captain's orders."

"Aye, Aye."

I turned to walk away, then paused, swiveling back around. "Do you know any sort of protocol for this? I've never met with politicians."

His face became thoughtful for a moment before he smiled broadly, saying, "I just follow standard operational procedure – Salute anything you can't eat or kill. Good luck."

I let out a small laugh, nodding, "Sounds good." I turned away, walking up towards the sleeper pods where my stuff was stored.

"Good Luck," I heard from behind.

I waved over my shoulder, headed towards my footlocker. The floor panel came up easily, my footlocker just as simple to locate. The Alliance's dress blues weren't terrible, considering some of the uniform nightmares other divisions had to wear. The navy tailored pants had a nice slimming effect, as did the black leather paneling on the jacket. Gold piping added interest to the paneling, and a simple golden chain closed the overlapping pieces at the lapel. The only thing I truly disliked about the uniform were the thick, bulky shoulder pads. I wasn't exactly broad, so they gave a sort of triangular effect which wasn't entirely flattering. Three silver bars denoted my rank on each pad and the Star of Terra hung loosely on my right breast. After braiding my hair and pinning it into a high bun, I was ready.

"Nice timing, Commander," Joker said from his seat as I walked into the cockpit. "Just about to bring us in, see that taxpayer money at work."

Alenko and Williams came in behind me, and saluted. Williams' borrowed uniform fit her well enough, though her chest and shoulders seemed a little larger than Serviceman Copeland's. Alenko's fit perfectly, of course. The rogue little curl at the top of his forehead didn't seem to want to stay put, even as he self-consciously smoothed it up into place.

"Looks like I was right about Copeland," I commented to Williams.

She nodded, adding, "It's a little tight, but the sleeves are long enough and the belt holds everything in place."

The cockpit filled with light as Joker entered the Mass Effect Field, the Normandy's hull singing. We blasted through to the Serpent Nebula, into the Widow System. A dense haze of ash and stardust greeted us, the remains of whatever star had been there. Widow had no Solar System, only towering pink-purple clouds that filtered light from the nearby star into twinkling facets.

The Normandy navigated gracefully through the din, banking slightly out of the cloud cover to reveal the Citadel. The light from the system's star filled the cabin, it's glare setting the superstructure aglow. Five massive arms stretched out like petals of a flower, each containing a ward with enough people to fill an entire planet. They met in the middle around the Presidium Ring. The epicenter of Citadel life: a hollow circle not even a fraction of the rest of the station that housed the Embassies and all the finer things. The Presidium Ring gave way to the Citadel Tower, a tall structure that protruded from an extended base in the middle of the circle. It was maybe a hundred times larger than Arcturus, the largest of the Alliance Stations, and older than any known structure in the galaxy.

"Incredible," Alenko breathed. I'd been watching our approach so intently I hadn't realized how close he was standing.

"Look at all of these ships!" Williams said, her face nearly pressed against the starboard window.

It was true. Frigates, schooners, warships, merchant vessels, and shuttles dotted the airspace. Incoming, outgoing, there were more than I'd ever seen. The Normandy maneuvered around them, dropping in speed, as Joker drew closer. We passed under a large dreadnaught -the biggest I'd ever seen- the cockpit growing dim under its massive shadow.

"Look at the _size_ of that thing!" Williams gasped. I crowded the window behind her, feeling Alenko's presence directly to my right.

"The Destiny Ascension, flagship of the Citadel fleet, Asari-design," Alenko said, his voice filled with a reverent awe.

"Well, size isn't everything," Joker piped up, almost a little defensive.

"Why so touchy, Joker?" Williams teased.

"I'm just saying, you need firepower too," he replied, "And speed. That thing's a flying bull's eye."

It was definitely a strange design, more akin to a starfish than a ship. Two fins spread out from either side while two more protruded from the top and bottom. A large hole went straight through its center, glowing blue with energy from the drive core. Massive guns dotted its exterior, probably large enough to crater a moon.

"Look at that monster!" Williams argued, "Why would you need speed if your main guns could rip through the barriers of any ship in the Alliance Fleet?"

"I'm just glad it's on our side," Alenko said.

Joker shook his head, his face smiling in resignation. He patched into the Citadel comm link saying, "Citadel Control, this is SSV Normandy requesting permission to dock."

"Stand by for clearance, Normandy," came the immediate reply. A few minutes passed as Joker killed the jets, drifting carefully through the airspace. "Clearance granted, you may begin your approach. Transferring you to Alliance operators."

"Docking Cradle E422, Zakera."

"Roger Alliance Tower, Normandy out."

Joker boosted the engines, propelling us forward as he flew down, underneath the Presidium Ring. Several ships were coming in and out of the docks and Joker expertly weaved in and out until he found the one assigned to us. The ship hummed as we entered the Citadel's kinetic field, lowering into the Cradle's berth.

"Shepard," I heard from behind. I whirled around, and found Anderson standing in the doorway to the cockpit. Alenko and Williams both stood in full salute.

"Sir," I saluted.

"It's time."


	14. Entry 14

[Entry 14: the Council Part 1]

"This is absolutely ridiculous," the Ambassador growled. He sat down at his desk, only to spring up and start pacing once more. "The Council would leap at the slightest hint of attack if it were a turian colony! Using the Terminus as an excuse, making me look like a fool- it's outrageous!"

Williams and Alenko were standing at the Ambassador's balcony, overlooking the entire Presidium. I hadn't had much time to enjoy it between my trips to the Citadel Tower and Embassies. We'd just come from the Tower, having met with the Council and been flatly turned aside. Saren, too, was present at the hearing via hologram, apparently off station on a job. He'd defended himself to the Council by placing the blame squarely on my shoulders, claiming the mission failure as proof that the Human Race wasn't ready to join neither the Council nor the SPECTREs. Every piece of evidence we laid out against him was brushed off, even the testimonies from Manuel, Dr. Warren, and Powell. We were at Ground Zero, with no way up.

I thought back to the hearing, remembering the cold sweat that shivered down my spine as Saren spoke. Even through an FTL link, the turian was incredibly formidable. He was charismatic and shrewd, nothing would get past him. His pointed gaze was enough to strip paint off the wall and under its unblinking gaze I felt oddly exposed. Though I was never one to cower from a challenge, after experiencing his fierce, imposing personality first hand, I knew I would have my work cut out for me. If we wanted to take him down, we would need evidence directly from the source.

"That damned investigation didn't help either," he continued.

The Ambassador Donnel Udina was a short man of Indian descent with thick black hair and the kind of voice you could discern from across an entire room full of people. Personally, he was incredibly self-concerned and somewhat of a blowhard. I believed he had the right intentions, but his attitude towards the Council had me thinking he didn't have the spine to withstand much pushback. It was evident from the moment I shook his hand that this was a person easily manipulated by his own Ego.

"It was a courtesy, Ambassador, not an investigation," Anderson replied. "If they really wanted Saren brought in, they would have selected other SPECTREs to investigate. As it is, they had one C-Sec officer wading through a minefield of confidential information. They won't be helping us, he's too important to them. It's on us to find what we need."

We'd spent an entire day in dock trying to get a hearing with the Council. They considered refusing a general audience after being informed that the beacon was destroyed. After several pleas, and a short, pointed argument with Udina in his office, they initiated a perfunctory investigation that took two day cycles (about forty hours on the Presidium). It turned up nothing. The officer in charge of investigating was another turian named Garrus Vakarian, who seemed upright enough and yet... The investigation had lit a fire under him, and while that was nice, it only added to Anderson's frustration, Udina's anxieties, and my impatience.

"We have to find some way to get them to listen," I reasoned. "Saren and the Geth pose a threat to every human colony in the Traverse. They can't just do nothing."

"You obviously know next to nothing about the Council," Udina snapped. "If I were you Commander, I would hold my tongue. You've already done enough to jeopardize your candidacy for the SPECTREs." He glared at me, nearly spitting, "The mission on Eden Prime was a chance to prove you could get the job done. Instead, Nihlus is dead and the Beacon -your top priority I might add- was destroyed!"

I inhaled sharply through the nose, taking Udina's frustration without so much as a twitch. Being chewed out by a superior was one thing. Being chewed out by a politician who'd insofar done nothing but suck up to the Council, was another. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to retort.

"Nihlus is dead because Saren shot him!" The Captain quickly interjected. "The Beacon's destruction was an accident. You can't blame the mission's failure on her!"

"And yet he was able to just talk his way out of suspicion!" Udina jabbed. "It was a mistake bringing you into that hearing in the first place, Captain. You and Saren have too much history. It made the Council question our motives."

Williams', Alenko's, and my heads all swiveled toward Anderson in tandem. I heard someone shift weight behind me, no longer looking out on the Presidium. I'd figured back on the Normandy something like this would come to light. Anderson had been suspiciously vehement towards Saren's removal.

"That's not important," Anderson insisted. "Saren's going to use the Geth to exterminate all of humanity." I tilted my head, watching my commanding officer with concern as he continued, "Every colony we have is at risk. Every world we control is in danger. Even Earth isn't safe!"

"Captain..." I started. I didn't know what Saren had done to him, but his hatred was making him jump to conclusions. Anderson was one of the most decorated people in the Alliance and that came partially from his years of experience, but also his incredible accuracy in predicting the enemy. However, his obsession with Saren bordered on occult. I wondered briefly if he wasn't coming up with this Armageddon scenario simply out of paranoia.

"If he just wanted humans," I asked, "why did he go after the Beacon?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to go with my gut and it's telling me that Saren is planning something big." I couldn't deny that truth. Saren did seem impatient at the hearing, and claimed that he was in the middle of a high-risk operation. If he truly was, he should've been unreachable.

"We need to find solid evidence that places the blame directly on him," I said.

Udina -now standing behind his desk- was staring off out into the Presidium, arms crossed in thought.

"He's a SPECTRE," he finally said, "which makes him virtually untouchable. We need to expose him somehow, but that's the question. How?"

"What about Garrus Vakarian?" Alenko blurted. We all turned to him, expectant. He was prepared for the sudden spotlight, calmly continuing, "The investigator. He was arguing with the executor when we met him. Obviously he wants Saren just as bad as we do."

"He said he wanted more time," I nodded.

"Maybe he was close to finding something?" Ashley mused.

"The Citadel is too big to find him on our own," I said, turning to Udina. "Is there anyone you know that could help us, Ambassador?"

"I have a contact in C-Sec," he nodded, "A man named Harkin."

"Forget it," Anderson interrupted. "Harkin was suspended last month while drinking on the job. I won't waste my time with that scumbag."

"You won't have to," Udina shrugged. "I'm not going to let the Council use your past with Saren to undermine our efforts. Shepard can handle it on her own."

"You can't just cut the Captain out of the investigation!" I said without thinking. I almost regretted saying it, but truly it wasn't right. Udina wasn't worth the apology anyway.

"I can and I will," Udina pushed. "The risk is too high and this is too important."

"He's right," The Captain admitted. His head hung for a moment before he pulled up to his full height. "I need to step aside, Shepard, and let you handle this."

"But sir-"

"Harkin's probably getting drunk at Chora's Den," he said, squashing anymore protest out of me. "It's a dingy little club in lower Zakera. You can't miss it."

"Is he even really worth the time?" I asked. "You don't seem to like him very much, Captain."

"I don't, but it couldn't hurt to go talk to him," he shrugged. "We don't have any other leads. Be careful though, I wouldn't exactly call him 'reliable'."

"Aye, aye... sir," I saluted, turning to leave. Williams and Alenko fell into step behind me as we left the office down the hall and towards the Presidium Commons.

"Commander!" I heard behind me soon after. It was Anderson.

"Captain," I said, saluting again. He didn't bother answering but instead handed me a pistol. "Take this, just in case," he said. "the wards aren't the friendliest of places."

I wrapped my fingers around the weapon, adjusting to the wider grip and different balance.

"Sir," I started looking down at the weapon, not really sure what to say. A question pressed against my lips. "What happened... between you and Saren?"

"It was almost twenty years ago," he shook his head, not bothering to continue. When I said nothing and instead watched him, he sighed.

"I took part in a mission out in the Skyllian Verge. Saren and I were working to eliminate a terrorist threat in the area. Saren got his target, but a lot of people died along the way. Innocent people. None of it showed up in the official record." he paused, his face contorting with the memory. "I saw how he operates. No conscience. No hesitation. He'd kill a million innocents to end a war without a second thought."

I exhaled slowly, thinking of the corpses that littered the ground on Eden Prime. "Killing innocents causes war," I murmured. "It doesn't end it."

"I know how the world works, Commander," Anderson said. "Sometimes you have to choose between bad and worse, but only if there's no other way. Saren doesn't even look for the option. He likes the violence, the indiscriminate killing. Something inside him... it's twisted, broken. The worst part is he knows how to cover his tracks."

It was silent for a moment as we both contemplated.

"I should...go," I finally said.

"Good luck Commander," he replied, his eyes snapping back into the present. "You know where to find me if you need me."

The wards were a dark, crowded place. After finding a transit vehicle, Alenko, Williams and I sped out of the Presidium Ring through one of the Citadel's hyperways, towards the arm of Zakera Ward. From the window, the other arms loomed in the distance, lit up in grids that never went dark. Comparatively, the Ring was so small, even if it spanned hundreds of thousands of kilometers. We passed through a labyrinth of impossibly tall skyscrapers, down into the smog of the lower markets. The nav led us into a tunnel system connecting to thousands of drop points around Zakera. Chora's Den was one of them.

We landed in a parking lot filled to the brim with other vehicles. A banged up C-sec cruiser was parked sideways, eating up two spots. It'd been keyed, a spectrum of colorful insults dug into the side.

"Guess we found Harkin," I muttered, initiating the security lock on our car.

"Classy joint," Alenko murmured, his eyes roving over the building. It was built into the side of the tunnel system, cars bulleting past both above and below. There didn't seem to be a distinct bottom to the wards, which was a bit unsettling to think about. I breathed in the harsh, stale air immediately regretting it as the foul taste of sewage, bile, and filth settled in my mouth.

Ramps littered with trash and dried vomit lead from the parking lot up to the concrete dive, which boasted an elaborate blue neon dancer laying on her side, beckoning. Chora's Den, a sign above the door read. Enjoy at your own risk.

"Is it me or is this place just so homey?" Williams mocked.

"Let's find Harkin and get out," I sighed. I already felt like I needed a scalding shower.

My eyes immediately took stock of the place, noting every blind spot. Pounding, rhythmic beats pulsed against my ribcage, making my bones vibrate. How did anyone talk in here, let alone think? We walked the edge of the circular club, the center of the space dominated by a 360 degree bar with a dancer's stage on top. Beautiful, azure women held themselves aloft on the poles, their muscles flexing with each graceful movement. I met eyes with one of the Asari, her face sensual and alluring then turned away, uninterested. As I peered through the smoky din, trying to identify Harkin, I overheard an exchange between two hulking Krogan coming from a short, dark hallway to my right.

"Back off Wrex," one growled, the bouncer. He was dressed in light armor, wrapped in the same fibre as my N7 jumpsuit. The rounded, triangular plate on his head was smooth, sharpening into a serrated edge as it reached the top. His eyes were reptilian, and glared at the Krogan whose back was to us. "Fist told me to take you down if you ever showed up."

"What are you waiting for?" the other replied, his voice deeper, gruffer than that of the other. "I'm right here." It was a challenge, and though I could only see the Krogan's rounded hump, I could hear the leering smile in his voice.

"This is Fist's only chance," he rumbled, so low I almost couldn't hear over the music. "If he's smart, he'll take it."

"Commander," Alenko said, close to my ear so he didn't have to holler over the music. I put my hand up instinctively, still watching the exchange between the massive creatures. My knuckles brushed against his lapel, resting lightly, but I was too interested in the outcome of this conversation to notice.

"He's not coming out Wrex. End of story."

"This story's just beginning," came the threatening reply. The bigger Krogan turned around, his face coming into view as he stepped out of the darkness of the hallway. A huge scar marred this one's entire headplate, and even the softer flesh of his face underneath. Knife sharp teeth snarled in displeasure as he walked away from the bouncer, towards me.

"Out of my way, human. I have no quarrel with you," he chuffed, brushing past as he lumbered towards the door.

"Interesting," I murmured, my eyes following.

"What was that all about do you think?" Alenko asked, his breath tickling the smaller hairs near my ear. It twitched at the sensation. I turned my head towards the Lieutenant, noticing my hand still resting against his lapel and quickly lowered it.

Before I could reply I heard Williams bellow, "I think I found him!" Whatever that was would have to wait, but I had the feeling I would be seeing that Krogan -Wrex- very shortly.

As it turns out, Harkin hadn't been too hard to find. Dressed in his C-Sec uniform (did he bother changing when they suspended him a month ago?), the middle-aged, balding despot was lounging against the wall at a table meant for four. It was one of the darker parts of the club, and somewhat quieter.

The man himself was cradling something potent, either that or he'd been drinking long enough that the alcohol was coming straight from his pores. A gun rested on the table, closer than I was comfortable with. He was making eyes at a particularly lithe Asari dancer, who pointedly ignored him as she continued her routine around the pole on the upper stage.

"Harkin?" I asked, stepping directly into his line of sight.

"Hey, move it," he slurred. I noticed a patch of vomit drying on his vest. Wonderful. "I'm tryna watch the sho- oh, well looky here. How are you doin' tonight, Princess?" I stepped into the glare of a spotlight, tilting my head so he could plainly see the scar that marred my face.

"That soldier get-up looks real nice on that bod of yours," he continued, unfazed. His glassy eyes wandered up my body, and I was suddenly thankful the dress uniform dwarfed me somewhat. "I can take you out somewhere nice, yeah? Buy you a couple drinks? I know all the best bars in the wards, Princess."

"I bet you do," Williams scoffed.

"Or, or, or," he said, drawing out the last "or", "you could sit your sweet little ass right next to me and see where the night takes us."

"I'd sooner drink cyanide with a mouth full of razor blades," I snarled, feeling the gun Anderson gave me pressing into my spine more acutely than before.

"Tryna hurt my feelings?" he pouted. He smiled, his teeth cracked and yellowed. "You're gonna hafta do better'n that, Princess. After 20 years of C-Sec, I've been called every name in the book." Princess. Princess. Princess. Three strikes and you're out.

I ripped the gun from my waistband, shoving the barrel into his forehead. His chair tilted back and hit the wall, leaving him no way out. In my periphery I saw Williams snag his gun from the table, a smirk tipping her mouth up at the corner. Alenko looked displeased, but I could feel the biotic undercurrent rolling off of him in waves. Other patrons of the club turned their chairs away, pretending not to notice. Things like this must be a norm in the lower wards.

"Call me Princess one more time and they'll be scraping your brains off the wall, you drunken sack of shit." My scar puckered as I loomed over him, eyes blazing with fury. With a deadly calm I ordered, "Tell me where Garrus Vakarian is and you walk out alive."

"Vakarian?" he laughed gruffly, totally unfazed. "You must be one of Anderson's crew. Poor Bastard is still after Saren's hide. Tell me," his eyes were still glossy, but burned with malicious glee. He leaned into the barrel of the gun, lowering his voice, "did he let you in on his dirty little secret?"

I released the safety, cocking back the hammer before resting my finger on the trigger. "Tell me what I want to know before this gets ugly."

He laughed again, a little less easily. "Oh but don't you see? It's all related, dollface. Good ol' Anderson used to be a SPECTRE." My face betrayed my surprise to him. "Oh he didn't tell you? It was all very hush-hush, granted. The very first human given that 'honor'. And you know what?" his smile widened, "He fucking blew it; screwed up the mission so bad they kicked 'im out. Of course, he blames Saren, said the Turian set him up."

"And why the hell would I believe walking human trash like you?" I growled.

"Ask him," he shrugged. "I'd bet he'd tell you. He's too stupid and proud to lie to your face."

I shoved his head into the wall, pressing the gun so hard into his forehead it wrinkled the skin around it. "Tell me where Garrus is... now." I pulled the trigger to the very edge, just a twitch away from firing.

Harkin's hands went up, "He's been sniffing around the clinic near here! Dr. Michel runs it, I-I-I don't know why. It's in the upper wards."

"That wasn't too hard, now was it?" I asked.

"I told you," he pleaded, "now let me go."

I pulled back, re-engaging the safety. After fitting the pistol back into my waistband, I turned to leave. As my companions continued on, some small part of me made me stop. Before I could help myself I whipped around, slamming my fist into Harkin's right cheek. His head flew back into the wall with a sickening crack rebounding to smack against the table.

"Now you can go," I smiled, leaving him on the floor.

I stalked out of Chora's Den, headed for the transport lot when I was grabbed from behind. A three-clawed hand wrapped around my mouth, forcing a noise of surprise from me. I struggled against the talon, a rush of adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream. I let the Turian lift me up before throwing my weight forward, down the ramps. We fell together, rolling through the trash and bile until we reached the bottom. I felt the pull in my rib as I scrambled to my feet, it still wasn't completely healed.

"Shepard!" the Lieutenant called, running from the car park, his entire body radiating with biotic energy.

"Look out!" Williams called, firing three quick bursts from Harkin's gun. I heard them connect with a barrier far behind me.

The turian who'd fallen beside me reached for his assault rifle, just out of reach. I kicked him hard between the legs, snagging the gun from the ground. Three short bursts and he was dead. A hail of bullets filled my vision. Alenko wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back against his chest, his large barrier deflecting the brunt of the onslaught. With one hand, he pulled the energy into a ball and threw it at the remaining two assailants. They both flew into the air, giving me enough time to find them in the rifle's scope and take them down with William's help.

"Are you alright Shepard?" he asked before gently releasing me. His hand lingered on my elbow longer than I was comfortable with.

"Fine," I nodded, pulling away. "Just fine."

After checking the area for anymore surprises, we reconvened around the turian who'd tumbled down the ramps after me.

"Commander, take a look at this," Alenko said from down beside the body, showing me the Turian's omni-tool. It was a list of hits. My name was at the top.

"Someone sent a group of assassins after me," I stated, knowing immediately who. The Lieutenant and I shared a glance as I said what we were both thinking aloud, "Saren."

"He wants to make sure we don't find the evidence we need," he nodded.

"Isn't this evidence enough?" Williams asked, gesturing to the omni-tool.

"This is just a job-list," Alenko said, shaking his head. "There isn't actually proof that Saren's the one who ordered the hit. If we presented this now, the Council would say we were paranoid."

"Who else would want Shepard dead?" Williams.

"Oh, trust me," I butted in, "that list is just as long as this one." I thought about the mothers, fathers, wives, and husbands, who'd called me "murderer" after Torfan. Besides them, there was only one more person who wished I was dead more:

Me.

"So what do we do?" Williams asked.

"Hand Lieutenant Alenko the pistol you took from Harkin and take this instead," I extended the assault rifle towards her. It was clunky and awkward, but it would serve its purpose. After she took it, I pulled Anderson's gun from my waistband.

"Now we find Garrus and take Saren down."


	15. Entry 15

[Entry 15: Follow the Lead]

Dr. Michel's Clinic was in the upper levels of Zakera, closer to Chora's Den than one would think. Once we were out of the scummy back streets of the lower district however, the ward seemed like an entirely different place. C-Sec officers roamed about, keeping a careful eye on passersby. People swelled through the streets, buying goods at different market kiosks, queuing up at clubs, admiring the sprawling Zakera Skyline from an observation deck on the edge of the hyperway.

"Incredible," Alenko breathed, his eyes wide with boyish excitement. I gently yanked him out of the way of an incoming group of young aliens, probably headed to the club we'd passed earlier. He grunted with surprise, stumbling into my shoulder. We both stopped short.

I smiled slightly up at him without saying a word, my eyebrows lifting instead to show my bemusement.

"S-sorry, Commander," he said, hazel eyes glittering in the light of the street.

"Just...keep it moving, Lieutenant." I unconsciously patted him on the shoulder, brushing past him to fall into step with Williams.

"LT's the oldest little boy I've ever met," she smirked. I only shook my head, a small laugh escaping from me. Maybe so, but he'd definitely proven himself a fine soldier.

The clinic was at the far end of the pedway, next to a municipal car park. A small, red cross in a square of white hung over the door, with a small sign reading: _Michel Clinic_.

"Damn, we could've taken the car and saved some time," Williams commented.

"Well we're here now," I shrugged, saving the information anyway.

"That's strange," Alenko murmured. I looked behind at him standing by the door. It was locked tight.

"It's closed?" I asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "But the sign next to the door says it's open all hours."

I looked around his shoulder at the small placard, reading: _Safe, non-discriminate, open at all hours._ Something trembled in my gut. Instinctively, I put my ear to the solid metal door, hoping to catch a semblance of life inside. Alenko watched me as I focused in, gun at the ready, and activated his omni-tool, already patching into the building's mainframe.

A muted shout rang out, "I didn't tell anyone, I swear!"

I didn't bother with the lock. Two shots to the outer door panel had it sliding up.

"Smart move, Doc." Gruff, belligerent. A human thug with thick arms, skinny legs and a pin-up Asari girl tattooed on his arm leaned in towards a tall, slender woman- the doctor I assumed. A tactical optics visor was strapped to his forehead, unknowable information scrolling up the oblong screen covering his right eye. "Now if Garrus comes around," he started.

Then he noticed me.

" _Who are you?!_ " he bellowed, whirling the doctor around to press his pistol to her head. Her eyes went wide with fear, hands clawing at the tree-trunk of an arm wrapped around her neck. Five more just like him slunk out of the shadows, hands wrapped around their own assortment of black-market weapons. A shot rang out. The ring leader slumped to the ground. Without thinking, Alenko, Williams and I opened fire, nailing three of the five immediately. The doctor fell to the floor, behind a short wall. The two remaining thugs scattered out of view, firing from behind simple privacy barriers. I fired through one, shattering the frosted glass and taking down the man behind it. A Turian in blue C-Sec armor slipped out from the shadows of a large desk, keying something in on his Omni-tool. Garrus Vakarian.

A burst of electricity sent the remaining thug out from his hiding place, his shields flickering sporadically before dropping altogether. The Turian detective fired three shots into his chest, the man jerking like a ragdoll before slumping to the floor.

Vakarian walked to the end of the small med-bay -probably checking for survivors- as I hopped over the short half-wall to assist the doctor. She was huddled against the wall, trembling, as she stared blankly towards the leader of the thugs, his blood spreading across the floor.

"Doctor," I asked, gently placing my hand on her shoulder. She flinched, jerking away with a gasp. I tried again.

"Doctor, you're in shock," I murmured, gently grasping her fingers which were systematically tearing apart the seam of her medical tunic. My touch didn't startle her the second time as she looked to me, her throat bobbing as she gulped in air.

"Alright, that wasn't too bad now was it?" I heard the turian say. His voice was a brash tenor that held the signature buzzing undertone unique amongst his kind.

I stood to my full height, a good four or five inches shorter than the C-Sec officer and glared at him. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?" I shouted. The doctor flinched down beside me.

"What do you _mean_ what was I thinking?" he scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "They were about to kill her. You distracted them. I had the shot, so I took it."

"You got lucky," I pushed, my rage sparking a flare deep in my core. "What if he had moved? What if they had seen you?"

"There wasn't time to think, I just reacted. _Spirits,_ she's alive, that's what matters." The silence was thick between us. He sighed, bending down to Doctor Michel's level. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, looking from me to him and back with pale green eyes. "I'm... I'll be okay. Thanks to you, _all_ of you." Her voice lilted with a slight accent, one I couldn't discern.

Williams positioned herself at the door as Alenko fell in behind me, silent but alert.

"What got you into this mess in the first place?" I asked, my eyes flitting down to the pool of blood inches from my dress shoes. Her eyes darted from my gaze when I looked back up. Vakarian leaned against the half-wall, talons pressing into the concrete. When she didn't answer I urged, "They _will_ come back. We can stop that from happening. We can protect you, but only if you tell us who's behind all this."

"Fist," she finally explained. "A man named Fist. He sent these... people because he wanted to shut me up."

"And why, exactly, would he want to do that?" I asked.

She looked to Garrus, who nodded, and back to me. "He didn't want me to tell Garrus about a Quarian that I helped."

"Does this have anything to do with your investigation into Saren?" I turned my head to the C-Sec officer, noting the stark blue streaks running across his face and down his mandibles.

He nodded. "I was anonymously tipped-off about a possible lead. I was told to contact Dr. Michel about a _special patient_."

The Doctor sighed. "A few days ago, this quarian girl came to my office. She'd been shot, but she wouldn't tell me who did it. She was scared and looked like she'd been on the run."

"What happened to her?" I inquired, cupping my elbows lightly.

"I put her into contact with an information broker on the Presidium," she shrugged. My jaw tipped up slightly as I appraised the doctor. She shook her head, aware of my suspicion. "She told me she wanted to know about the Shadow Broker. She...well... she wanted an exchange. Information for protection. So I pointed her to Barla Von who is well-known in the wards."

I had a few guesses as to what that information was, the predominant one being evidence about a certain rogue SPECTRE. The Shadow Broker was an enigma wrapped in a tightly woven web of information, espionage, and _lots_ of money. Working with the N7, I'd come across agents of the Shadow Broker from time to time, but had never engaged with them. Never had I heard of someone actually meeting the broker themselves. I didn't think it would be any different in this case.

"Where is she now? Do you know?"

"Barla Von must have put her into contact with Fist," Garrus interjected. "What I don't understand is why he's trying to kill her. Do you know anything else Dr. Michel?" she shook her head, her eyes falling back to the man splayed across her floor.

"A common thug like Fist is an Agent for the Shadow Broker?" I was skeptical.

"Nobody knows how the Shadow Broker chooses his agents, but Fist is no common thug," Vakarian said. "He's got a lot of influence in this ward; C-Sec's been after him for years."

"I guess Barla Von would be the one to talk to if we wanted to find him then," I guessed.

"I'll join you," Garrus said. I just looked at him, eyebrow raised. "This is your show," he tried, raising both hands, "but I want Saren just as much as you do. If this pans out and that Quarian has the information we need, the Council will _have_ to listen to us."

"Why do you hate him so much?" I asked. "When we first met you outside the Council Chambers you were just as eager. He's one of your own kind and highly respected, so why?"

"Saren's a disgrace to my people!" he exclaimed. His mandibles clicked against his jaw in aggravation. "You think this is the first time he's been on trial? Twenty years ago he stood in front of the Council for the same reason. Charges have been placed against him since then, but they've all dropped within days. Everything he _touches_ is classified. Turians don't hide behind red-tape like he does, he _needs_ to be exposed." The fire in his eyes was undeniable.

"We have a transport down by Chora's Den," I said finally. Alenko shifted himself out of the way, allowing me to take lead. "Help the doctor clean up this mess, call whoever you have to. We're on channel AN4, the Alliance Network. I'll make sure you have clearance. We'll contact you once we've spoken with Barla Von and move on from there." He only nodded, leaning down to help the doctor to her feet as Williams, Alenko, and I exited the building.

Stepping out of the car into the Presidium sunlight was like stepping onto a completely different planet. The air was clean, albeit slightly humid and smelled of a recently-ended rain cycle. A large blue sky sprawled above us, artificial clouds sailing peacefully across the projectors. I liked the night-cycle best, when the projectors turned off and the clouds within the Widow System filtered starlight through the Presidium windows. Alenko had gone through the Alliance's information network to find the Volus information broker, Barla Von. He worked under a pseudonym at one of the Presidium's most private investment offices, just down the way from a large clothing emporium run by a surprisingly _pushy_ Hanar.

The Volus was alone in his office, surrounded by electronic databanks that produced a gentle whir; the only sound in the room. It was small, but clean and housed an oversized desk that held three large computer screens. The short, round alien was sitting comfortably in a large desk chair, only to wriggle out of the seat to greet us. He waddled around the desk, placing a three-fingered hand on top.

"What's this?" he said, his voice clicking with the in-suit respirator every volus carried with them. He stood maybe four feet tall, and was round, like a ball. "Earth-clan. *hhhh* A very famous one. *hhhh* Yes... *hhhh* The one named Shepard. *hhhh* It is a great honor *hhhh* to meet one so venerated. *hhhh*"

"I didn't know I was so popular on the Citadel," I crossed my arms, looking down at the Volus. "Then again, information _is_ your business after all, isn't Barla Von?"

"I am a financial advisor to many important clients on the Citadel," he evaded, his helmet's full coverage making it impossible to read him. "*hhhh* When someone as important as yourself arrives... *hhhh*...I take notice."

"Tell me," I pressed, leaning in, "is Fist one of those clients?"

"You're very blunt Shepard. *hhhh* You know more than you let on. *hhhh* Yes, I have dealings with Fist. *hhhh* Or rather _had_. *hhhh*" I stood straight again, rubbing the bridge of my nose to suppress the rising pressure of frustration behind my eyes.

"He betrayed you," I stated, thinking before adding, "or did _you_ betray _him_?"

" _He_ betrayed the _Shadow Broker_. *hhhh*," Barla Von said, his head waggling in something resembling dismay.

"I'm listening."

"*hhhh* Normally this information would cost a small fortune. *hhhh* However, given the circumstances, *hhhh* consider it a token of goodwill *hhhh* courtesy of the Shadow Broker. *hhhh*."

"What's the catch?" Williams said from my four.

"There is no _catch_. *hhhh*" the Volus replied. "The Shadow Broker is quite upset with Fist right now. *hhhh* as well as Saren. *hhhh*."

"So there _is_ a connection," Alenko murmured. "How does the Quarian girl fit into all of this?"

"Saren and the Shadow Broker did quite a lot of business. *hhhh* That is, *hhhh* until Saren betrayed him."

"Shocking," I let slip with a sigh, my arms still folded tightly against me. The chain at my lapel swayed slightly as I shifted weight.

"*hhhh* Whatever you might think about Saren, *hhhh* he's not stupid. *hhhh* He knows the Shadow Broker is a valuable ally. *hhhh* Turning on him doesn't make sense, *hhhh* not unless something _huge_ was at stake. *hhhh* Fist is only following the money. *hhhh* I'm not privy to the details, *hhhh* but the Shadow Broker hired a freelancer to... _deal with it_. *hhhh* A Krogan." My gut instinct had been right.

"His name is Wrex, isn't it?" the Volus nodded. "I saw him trying to get to Fist at Chora's, but he left. Do you know where I could find him?"

"C-Sec Academy," came the answer.

"Am I the only who finds that strange?" Alenko asked. Williams and I shook our heads in tandem. "Just checking," he murmured, his head bobbing.

"*hhhh* I doubt the visit was entirely his choice. *hhhh* Regardless, you'll need to catch him before he wanders off *hhhh*."

"Then we should go." I jerked my head to the door, signalling the other two to head out. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ , Shepard. *hhhh* Best of Luck. *hhhh*"

The Academy was neither in the Wards nor in the Presidium, but in a large hub that connected the two. It housed an elevator to Docking Bay Access, Presidium, and Wards, as well as the Citadel Traffic Control Center. Trees bloomed in the lobby of the Academy, which was lit up by all manner of lights, save the artificial sunlight within the Presidium.

"Garrus, this is Shepard," I commed, gesturing for Williams and Alenko to spread out and look.

"Just arriving now," came the reply. "Human blood is surprisingly easy to clean, but I still smell like metal. It's a bit nauseating."

I shook my head, ignoring his last bit of commentary. "We're in the lobby, looking for the Krogan."

"Yeah, he should be towards the offices. To the right, if you're facing the Docking elevator."

"Do _you_ know why he's here?" I asked.

"Yeah," I heard from directly behind me. I spun around, coming face to face with Vakarian's angular chestplate. I tilted my head up, the Turian's face a mix of emotions. "A friend of mine said that Fist filed a complaint, telling C-Sec the Krogan was making threats."

"If C-Sec is after him, why not just let the Krogan have his way?" I asked.

"It's a little more complicated than that," Garrus said, snuffing air out of his nose-slits. "C-Sec and Fist have a... a _working_ relationship. Fist keeps petty crime and gang violence relatively low within his sphere of influence, and C-Sec turns a blind eye towards his _dealings_. When I told my Superior I was going after him, he wasn't too excited."

"Even on the Citadel corruption runs rampant," I muttered, disgusted.

" _Especially_ on the Citadel."

"Commander, we found him," Williams reported in.

"Witnesses saw you making threats at Fist's Bar, Wrex," I heard an older human officer say as Garrus and I approached the location Williams had told us about. She was casually sidled against the entrance up to the C-Sec offices and Alenko was sitting on a bench nearby, pretending to read from his omni-tool. "We _told_ you to stay away," he continued, arms crossed behind his back. His hands were trembling.

"I don't take orders from you," the Krogan growled, leaning in inches away from the officer's face.

"This is your only warning, Wrex," the officer continued. I had to give the man credit, he had some courage, but it wouldn't be enough to back the Mercenary down.

"You should warn Fist," came the deep rumble. "I _will_ kill him."

The officer gestured frustratedly saying, "Do you _want_ to be arrested?"

The toughened Krogan only chuffed deeply, leaning back to let the laugh roll through his body only to stick his face menacingly close to the C-Sec officer's. "I'd like to see you try."

Garrus shifted next to me, ready to move. My hand shot out to stop him, which took the Krogan's attention. His head tilted curiously before he brushed the officer to the side, and headed my way. Williams and Alenko hung back, waiting for orders.

"Go on, get out of here," the officer called, shaking his head as he turned away, heading up the stairs towards the offices with his partner.

"Do I know you, human?" the Krogan asked ignoring the officer. "You've shown up twice in one day. I don't believe in coincidence."

"I tend not to either," I said extending my hand. "Shepard, Alliance Navy. I'm on my way to pay Fist a visit; thought you'd might like to tag along." He simply looked at my hand, then back to me. I played it off, letting it fall easily to my side.

"Shepard? Commander Shepard? I've heard _a lot_ about you." The Krogan appraised me slowly. "We're both warriors Shepard, so out of respect I'll give you fair warning. I'm the one killing Fist."

"He knows you're coming," Garrus interjected. "You have a better chance of getting to him if you work with us."

"'Seek the enemy of your enemy and you shall find a friend'," Wrex mused.

I extended my hand once more saying, "Do we have a deal?" He took it in his rough grasp, nearly breaking my hand in the process.

"Let's go," he huffed. A sickening smile split his mouth in two, his sharp teeth gleaming. "I'd hate to keep Fist waiting."

Chora's Den was silent as we parked in the lot outside, now abandoned.

"They're expecting us," Alenko muttered beside me as the rest of our motley crew clambered out of the transport.

"Remember the layout of the Club," I warned the team. "No corners, but lots of nooks and shadows to hide in."

"We can't just storm in there unprotected," Vakarian said. "We'll be gunned down in seconds."

"No, we won't," I promised. Jenkins crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes seeming to say, _oh really?_. I blinked him away, turning towards the Lieutenant.

"I need you to produce a barrier big enough to cover the door and the area immediately inside it. Can you manage?"

"It depends on how strong the oncoming fire is," he answered, angling himself towards me, "but I think I can as long as we don't hang around."

"Good to know," I nodded, addressing the other squadmates. "Here's the plan: Alenko will cover the entrance, allowing the rest of us to move in. Assuming the enemy isn't a bunch of idiots they'll have at least a few men behind the bar. We take that position, we have access to the rest of the club. If they're smart, they'll have someone hiding on the stage above so we have to watch out for that. I don't want any heroics, if you're in trouble, say so. Especially you two," I said, pointing to Alenko and Williams. "We don't have shields or armor, so I'll need you two," I pointed to Garrus and Wrex, "to take point. Keep to the perimeter, use the tables for cover."

"Sounds good," Williams chimed in, "I'm ready if you are." The rest of the squad made noises of agreement.

"Let's move out."


	16. Entry 16

[Entry 16: Tali'Zorah Nar Rayya]

They opened fire the second we walked through the door. Lieutenant Alenko thrust a barrier outwards, shrouding the entrance with an almost electric energy. The barrage pummeled his energy, slugs dropping to the floor with a sound like rain on a titanium alloy roof.

"I can't hold this for long!" he hollered over the shouts and gunfire, his face already slick with sweat. A bullet punctured the top right, then the bottom, towards the middle. He was already weakening.

"Go!" I ordered, sending Wrex and Vakarian forward. I fired above at the sniper perched on the stage, just as I'd predicted. Alenko pulled the barrier into a ball of tight energy and -with some difficulty- pushed forward, throwing a Krogan bouncer clear across the club.

Wrex veered left, throwing up a biotic barrier of his own. I was surprised- I hadn't known they could do that. His shotgun was the loudest thing in the room, firing thunderous rounds that managed to take out more than one gang member at a time. Vakarian took the right, using his omni-tool offensively. He threw dart-shaped objects that exploded outwards in deadly bursts of electricity, allowing him time to pick off thugs one by one. Williams, Alenko, and I each leapt over the bar, choosing to engage them hand-to-hand. Alenko punched a dark-skinned man in the gut, bringing his knee up into his face; clean and efficient. Williams grappled with another for control of a pistol, throwing him over the bar top in the process. The door to the topside stage opened behind me, a man twice the size of me emerging. He went high. I went low. Two shots and he was dead.

The room was emptied in almost no time.

"Status report," I called, firing a shot into the head of a -now deceased- thug who'd grabbed me around the ankle. He slumped to the floor, his blood now painting my right pant leg. I received four all-clears before meeting up with each of them at the entrance of the hallway I'd first overheard Wrex.

"Shepard," Alenko said, looking at me. I hadn't exactly fought cleanly. The blood of three men spattered across my uniform, a few dots even flecking the skin of my cheeks. Williams didn't look much cleaner, her right jaw swelling slightly and her borrowed uniform equally disheveled. Alenko, of course, was spotless. Perfect bastard.

I just shrugged, unconcerned.

"Fist's office is down this hallway," Wrex rumbled, already heading towards the door.

"Williams, Vakarian, hang back here and watch for more incoming," I ordered. They took up the position, Alenko falling in on my seven. Wrex slammed the butt of his shotgun into the door's control, sending a flare of sparks out and the door shooting upwards. Two more human thugs greeted us.

"Stop right there, don't come any closer," one challenged. His gun was quivering in his hands. I took a second look and realized- they weren't gang members but maintenance men, warehouse workers.

"All the real guards must be dead," Alenko murmured behind me. He'd come to the same conclusion.

"I don't have time for this," Wrex grunted, "Just kill them and move on."

"S-stay back, or... we'll shoot!" the other man threatened half-heartedly.

"You don't have to die for him," I said instead. "Let us handle Fist and you're free to find employment elsewhere."

The two men looked at each other, a silent exchange passing between them. They both dropped the guns.

"Thank you," the first one said before both disappeared from where we had come.

Wrex muttered to himself unhappily.

"By all means, go and find him then," I gestured, kneeling down to take an abandoned pistol. It was black market contraband, slightly better equipped than the one Anderson had given me, so I took it. I tucked the other into my waistband to return to the Captain. Picking up the other, I inspected it and handed it off Alenko. He accepted it with a nod, tossing Harkin's piece-of-crap onto a small shipping crate.

Down the hallway a row of lockers stood against the wall filled with guns, credits and a picture of an Asari woman. A hulking door loomed across from them- locked tight. Fist's private office.

"Let me handle this," Alenko said, patching into his omni-tool. Within seconds, the door opened.

"Impressive," I said.

"If you think _that_ was impressive you've got a lot left to see, Commander," he grinned. It was so out of place, so _unexpected_ , I started.

"Through here," Wrex said, pulling my attention away from Alenko. I felt strange. Something fluttered briefly in my stomach as I stepped into the office. A dividing wall was to my left, obscuring most of the room. What I could see was a tiered office space, complete with luxurious sectionals and a large television. One man stood amongst it all, rapidly typing something up on the interface on his desk.

"Nowhere left to hide," Wrex growled, pulling out his shotgun. The man looked up. A large scar ran diagonally down his left cheek, his eyes small and beady. He pressed a button, pulled out a gun of his own and flipped his desk.

"Why do I have to do everything _myself_ around here?!" he shouted incredulously. We opened fire, until a loud whirring had me backing into cover. Two military-grade automated turrets fired from both sides of the room, nearly ripping my shields apart. I rolled across the opening to the opposite side of the room as Wrex and Garrus fell back into the protection of Alenko's barrier.

"Garrus!" I hollered over the fire. "Take out those turrets!"

"On it!" he answered, keying up his omni-tool. Wrex and I leaned out, suppressing fire when possible. The turrets pelted against the metallic barriers, wearing them down with every second they passed. Garrus overloaded the turret to the right, the one directly ahead of my cover. I leaned out, drawing the other turret's attention as Wrex leaned out, his shotgun releasing a high-pitched whine as it primed.

"Wai-" I I started, before he fired. A massive explosion went off, dust filling the space. Without my helmet to filter the debris, it coated my lungs and eyes, nearly choking me. I slid down, my back against the barrier. Air slithered in through my nose, my ears ringing with the remnants of the concussive blast. The ground shook as Wrex thundered past, roaring murderously. Struggling past the fog of pain seeping into my skull, I pulled myself upright, dipping out of cover just in time to see Wrex smash the remaining turret under his feet. After reducing it to sparking wires and shards of metal, he turned on Fist, shotgun raised.

"Wrex, _Stop!_ " Garrus shouted.

"I surrender!" Fist shrieked, hands raised. His assault rifle clattered to the ground. "I surrender," he repeated. Fear made his arms quake. "Please don't kill me." Wrex slammed him into the ground in response.

" _Wrex_ ," I ordered, my voice cutting sharply through the now silent room.

A void consumed the space the gunfight had filled, my ears pinging with each invasion of the sudden silence. Wrex shifted slightly, allowing me to step in. Garrus fidgeted to my left, eyeing the krogan like an officer would a psych patient cradling a loaded gun. Alenko moved about the room, looking for anymore hidden surprises Fist might be keeping. He bent down, out of sight. Fist moved to get up and received Wrex's foot to his chest in response. He grunted as the massive krogan pressed him against the floor. Wrex was enjoying this.

"A Quarian girl came in here and asked you to set her up with the Shadow Broker," I said, peering over Wrex's leg to meet Fist's cornered-animal face. "I need to know where you sent her."

"I-" he started, eyes dancing between me, Wrex, and Garrus. "I don't know. I _swear_." His voice jumped fearfully as Wrex -almost nonchalantly- rested his shotgun against Fist's forehead.

"He's no use to you," the krogan mercenary rumbled, leaning into his gun. "Let me kill him."

"Wait!" Fist cried."Wait. I don't know where the Quarian is, but I know where you might find her."

"Talk." I commanded, my grip on Patience rapidly slipping. "Fast."

"She... she wanted to meet the Shadow Broker face-to-face. Said she would _only_ deal with him."

"You know that 's impossible," Wrex growled, "We were _both_ hired through Agents. Nobody meets the Shadow Broker."

"She didn't know that," the Crime Lord answered, almost relaxing into the ground. "I told her I'd set her up. When she gets to the rendezvous, a couple of Saren Arcturus's guys'll be waiting for her instead."

"Bastard," I murmured, mostly to myself. My scar puckered tightly as I glared down at Fist. "Give me the location. Now."

"I-it's here," he stammered, Wrex's gun jabbing into his skull. "On Zakera. There's a back alley by the lower markets. It's a blind spot for security and isn't patrolled by C-Sec. If you go now, you might make it before she gets there."

"Let's go," I ordered. Wrex pulled the trigger. My hand flew to my ear, eyes squeezing shut instinctively as Fist's blood sprayed against us, flecks dabbing at the corner of my mouth and landing in my hair. The space Fist's head had once occupied was now a crater of blood, brain and bone matter spattering across the floor, smoke curling from whatever remains had been charred by the slugs.

"What are you _doing_?!" Garrus and I shouted in unison. Alenko was turned around behind the Crime Boss's desk, dots of blood painting the parts of his jacket unprotected by the overturned furniture.

"I was paid to do a job," the Krogan said simply. "I don't leave jobs half-done."

"He was unarmed!" Alenko protested stiffly before I could retort, jumping up off the floor. "C-Sec could have taken him in!"

"How many people have died because of him? It's better this way," Wrex huffed in response, his eyes rolling, clearly unimpressed. While I agreed with him, there was still Citadel Law to contend with. Garrus didn't seem too bothered by Wrex's rather liberal grasp on the Justice System, however. I shook my head clear of immediate anger, now wasn't the time to start chastising people. I doubted the battle-scarred Krogan would even listen.

"We have bigger problems to worry about," I said. "We need to find that rendezvous before the Quarian ends up dead. The lower markets are full of back alleyways, we'll need to split up." Alenko was one step ahead of me, charting intersecting pathways through the streets on a map via his Omni-tool.

"We can go in two groups," he proposed, "Fist said she was in the lower markets which is here," he continued, circling a small area and zooming in, "All of the lower streets are connected one way or the other and it's a relatively small area-"

"Sounds like a plan," I interrupted, picking my way over debris to the front of the room. I turned back, opening my own interface. "Send the nav points to my Omni-tool and take Williams along the shorter routes. I'll bring Garrus and Wrex down the longer way."

The three of us met up with the Gunnery Chief at the end of the VIP hallway. She'd flipped the lights on to illuminate any blind-spots. The club was a gruesome portrait of death. Every sin was exposed to the naked eye, every dead gang member soaking in their own blood. Some were slumped against the walls their chins resting brokenly against their chests. Some were lying face down, splayed across the floor almost comically. One member in particular was strewn across the top of the bar, his green eyes wide open, jaws slackened as if to gape. I wondered briefly, breaking into a light jog after splitting up with the others, what kind of life he'd lived. I wanted to believe that people like him, thugs and gangsters, didn't have anything beyond drugs, weapons, and a rap-sheet, but that was almost never the case. The musty, sick-sweet sewer stench of the lower markets filled my nose and lungs, driving the errant thoughts out.

Zakera's backstreets were intimidatingly labyrinthine. I worried as the seconds ticked by, peering down side streets and bolting down others. The Quarian girl was our only hope of catching Saren off-guard. If we lost her, we lost every string of evidence connecting the Rogue Turian to Eden Prime and the Geth. It was something that couldn't happen. I wouldn't let it.

Garrus and Wrex followed my break-neck pace, darting in between the swells of people on the street. We ran down Alenko's nav points, writing them off as we went. Two minutes, Four minutes. We were running out of time. My heart was in my throat.

"Shepard! Up ahead on the left!" I heard Garrus shout. I looked in the direction, not registering what he was pointing me towards. Then, I saw it. It was nondescript and appropriately clandestine. Sandwiched in between two storefronts and blocked by tall refuse containers, a tight little alley lead into the dark heart of the lower markets. Without hesitating I pushed my way over, ignoring the surprise, disgust, anger, and bewilderment that flitted across people's faces. I hoisted myself over the industrial container, leapt over, and landed in a crouch on the other side. The alley descended into the unknown, lined with all manner of cargo. Garrus and Williams landed behind me and pulled out their weapons.

"Where's the Shadow Broker?" I heard echoing through the dark space. I darted forward, towards the sound, using the crates as temporary covers. "Fist said we would meet him," A voice -female- high-pitched and somewhat quavering under a thin layer of calm. She was alive. I looked back at Garrus who'd raised his weapon, waiting for me to signal forward. I signed for him to hold.

I peered around my current cover, a shipping crate with no labels, and found the Quarian standing further down in the middle of the alley with her back to me, a masked turian reaching out to caress her own shielded face. Across from me, Garrus was lining up a shot, but I motioned him back. If he took his shot, whoever else was with the assassin would make sure the job was still completed.

"They'll be here soon," I barely heard him croon. "You _do_ have the evidence, don't you? Where is it?" Even from my spot in the shadows I could hear the undercurrent of malicious intent in the assassin's voice. The Quarian must have heard it too.

She slapped his hand away. "No way," she shuddered, pushing the turian away. "The deal's off."

It was the wrong move. The turian stepped towards her, his talons poised to grab her if she ran. "I've always wondered what you Quarians hide under those masks."

Three more assassins closed in on her from the hidden corners of the alleyway, working her into a corner. The turian lunged. Before I could fire, the girl flicked her wrist, something round and compact flying out of her hand. Ducking under the sweeping arms of the leader, she ran up the alley, towards us, using her Omni-tool to detonate what seemed to have been a small shrapnel grenade.

Two of the four were blasted backwards, their shields ripping apart with the explosion. The turian cursed loudly in his native tongue, reaching for his gun, only it wasn't there. I watched, fingering the trigger, as the Quarian girl whirled around and fired three quick pulses into him, rolling into cover just beyond my reach to catch her breath as he sunk to the floor.

"Go," I ordered, motioning Garrus forward. He popped out of cover as the remaining assassin dashed forward, his Omni-tool glowing brightly. The now familiar burst of electricity lashed out, knocking the remaining assassin to the floor. Garrus fired into their chest, then made sure the others were well and truly dead.

"Who's there?" The Quarian shouted, her back pressing against the crate. I motioned Wrex out of hiding, and came out myself, letting the dim pockets of light in the alley bare everything.

"Friends," I said, tucking my gun away. She didn't lower her gun, but stood straight.

Quarians were interesting to me. Their faces were shrouded with glass masks, breathing tubes snaking down from under rounded helmets to connect to ventilators in the back. This one's suit was a deep purple, lined with thicker, black material. No gaps, no openings. Through the haze of whatever type of air she was breathing, her eyes glimmered with an unsettling light through the tinted glass of her mask. She was shorter than me, and skinny, her arms no wider than the barrel of the gun she had pointed to my face. Her legs were bowed, more similar to the prehistoric raptors and dinosaurs I'd seen in vids than any human.

"How do I know you're not with Fist?" she asked warily. Her voice was lilting, musical, and shook with fear.

"We're wearing _his_ blood," Wrex huffed, shifting his weight.

The Quarian started, her stance faltering. "W-what?"

"Fist is dead," I said, gently clearing my throat. "Wrex killed him." The blood that flecked my face had since dried and was now cracking against my skin. It was mildly uncomfortable.

"We were looking for you," Garrus revealed. "Fist was never going to let you meet the Shadow Broker."

"I _knew_ I couldn't trust him!" The girl shouted, slamming her stolen gun on the crate she'd been hiding behind.

"What's important is that you're alive," I reminded her. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I know how to look after myself," she admonished. Realizing her tone she quickly added, "N-not that I don't appreciate the help." She looked between the three of us, then rested her eyes on Wrex.

"Who are you?" she asked, probably assuming that he was the leader of the group. The Krogan looked to me.

"My name is Margaret Shepard," I answered for him, grabbing the Quarian's attention. "I'm a Commander in the Human Alliance. I've been looking for evidence to bring against Saren Arcturus to prove him a traitor to the Council. Garrus is the C-Sec officer in charge of the investigation and Wrex..." I trailed off, looking at the Krogan.

"Was hired to kill Fist," he finished.

"And your investigation lead to me," she finished. I nodded. "Then I have a chance to repay you for my life." She keyed up her Omni-tool, pulling files up from the screen.

"Not here," I said quickly. "It's not safe. We need to get you to the Embassies."

We headed out of the alleyway, leaving the assassins behind. No one followed us as we headed back to Chora's Den, to the car. I messaged Williams and Alenko to meet us outside Udina's office.

"What happens now, Commander?" Garrus asked as we approached the parked car.

"Go back to C-Sec and alert your superiors," I told him, trying to filter the dank air through my mouth. It tasted as bad as it smelled. "Fist's death is going to complicate things for them. When you're done, come back to the Embassies. The Council will want to meet immediately."

"Understood," he nodded, and turned to leave.

"Wrex," I said, turning to the Krogan. He eyed me warily. He killed Fist, but Fist was a criminal. I wasn't about to turn him in for it, but I knew that C-Sec would be after him. "You should stay with us," I decided. "C-Sec will assume it was you, but if this evidence is really what we need, I'm sure they'll turn a blind eye."

"Very well," he chuffed, shifting his weight.

"Let's get moving then," I nodded, the car doors sliding open.

We had Saren on the back foot. If this Quarian's evidence was the Hail Mary we needed it to be, the Council would have choice but to condemn him. Finally, this would be over.


End file.
